Curious
by purpleturnips
Summary: Tegan discovers what Quincest is and finds that she might actually be attracted to her sister, Sara, and wants to act out one of the fictional stories she reads with her. Will Tegan get to fulfill her fantasy? Or will curiosity kill the cat?
1. Chapter 1

"I hope this guy doesn't ask us the same fucking question we get every time we do this." Sara says to me as I follow her down the long hallway to the room where we're going to be interviewed. The walls are white with few framed pictures of semi-famous musicians and musical artists. The thin carpet covering the floor is a boring shade of dark blue and green. I hope our interviewer isn't as dull as this place. Otherwise I might as well take a nap while Sara answers all the questions. Sara stops in front of the open door at the end of the hall and glances inside.

"Here we are." Sara walks into the room and I follow her inside. It's set up like a radio station and a thin man greets us. He motions us to the two seats situated in front of a large microphone and I sit down in the chair next to Sara.

"Great to meet you, Tegan..." The man, who has to be at least thirty-five, points a finger at Sara and gives us a questioning look, like he can't tell us apart. I wave my little hand and he nods, revealing a big-toothed smile that only slightly reminds me of my father. "And so you must be Sara. Great to meet you!" He says again before sitting down across the circular table from us and begins putting on his headset. "Glad to have you on the show today." He gives us another fatherly smile and I try my best to equal his welcoming tone. "We're glad to be here!" Sara shifts in her seat and adjusts the collar of her blue button-up shirt.

"So let's go ahead and get started, shall we?" He doesn't even bother to tell us his name and presses a few buttons on his dashboard, the red "ON AIR" sign above his head lighting up. "Goooood afternoon Seattle! This is Joe Weaver, your host on KWJDU, soft and contemporary!" Joe ques the theme song to the station and we wait another minute for him to go through his usual routine. "Joining us today are Tegan and Sara! Lesbian twin sisters from Canada!" I hear Sara sigh next to me. "Their latest record, Sainthood is a pop-rock record filled with love songs and catchy tunes. Playing next is their single 'Hell'. Later on we'll be accepting questions from viewers, so call in and get a chance to win free tickets to their show tonight at the Showbox!" Joe gives a number to the station and then plays the song. I pull out my Blackberry and text Lindsey as we wait for the song to end.

"Welcome back!" Joe shouts into his mic, his low, booming voice is perfect for movie trailers. I wonder why he doesn't do that instead of working here. "Our first caller is on the line! What's your question?"

_"Hi, I just want to say that I love your music and you really inspire me. Okay, anyways, my question is; how was it working with Chris Walla and is he going to produce any more records with you?" _

I look over to Sara and take the question. "Chris is super nice. For this record he was really up for having us record like a traditional band. So we got into this huge room and just jammed for a month. But Chris is so sweet, I'd love to work with him again. He's all for letting us do what we want, you know? And he has nice hair." I laugh and Joe nods his head, grinning madly. He thanks the caller and presses another button in front of him.

"Great question! Alright, next caller, you're up!" Joe booms.

_"Um, yeah, sorry." _The girl on the phone clears her throat. _"Uh, how do you guys feel about the whole 'quincest' thing? Do you try to ignore it or are you okay with people writing all that stuff about you? Sorry..." _

Sara straightens her back and I crease my brow. What the hell is 'quincest'? It's something I haven't heard of before. Apparently I might be bothered by it, according to the caller. I look at Sara and she shrugs. Joe cuts in and asks what I've been wondering for the past five seconds.

"Excuse me, what is 'quincest'?" Joe's voice rises with his inquirey and he gives a little chuckle to the end of it. The caller clears their throat again.

_"Uh... it's this thing, it's like...It's like your last name and then 'incest'. Yeah..." _

Joe raises his eyebrows and his mouth forms a comical 'O'. Sara tilts her chin to the side and up, her eyes thinning and her lips pursed. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

"We don't really care. It's gross, yeah, but as long as we don't get people in the audience at shows screaming at us to make-out or whatever, it's not that big of a deal. Some fans are just too interested in us, you know. We just ignore it." Sara speaks into the microphone and crosses her arm over her chest, holding her elbow. The caller hangs up before Joe can thank them.

"Another caller! Hello!" Joe's voice seems louder compared to Sara's. "You're caller number twenty! Congratulations, you won two tickets to see Tegan and Sara at the Showbox tonight at eight!" Joe goes on to tell the winner about how to claim their prize. "Now what's your question for Tegan and Sara?" My phone buzzes faintly in my pocket for the second time.

_"Oh my god! Okay, okay. So what are your favorite lyrics you've written?"_ The winner gasps into their phone from excitement and I see Sara smile despite the mediocre question.

"Well, I don't know. It's hard to choose." Sara says into the mic. This one is easy for me, since I've already answered it from a few other interviews. I lean in to the microphone. "For me, the lyrics 'Maybe you would have been something I'd be good at.' are my favorite. Call It Off is a really emotional, personal song for me and those lyrics really get to me on stage. The audience usually gets into it when that part comes up, too." I smile at Joe and thank the caller for their question and tell them I can't wait to see them at the show tonight. My phone vibrates in my pocket again.

The rest of the interview goes on like this. I was expecting Joe to be the one who asks us everything, but the call-in wasn't what our management told us we were going to do when we came here to the radio station. I love talking to fans, no matter if they're in the same room or not.

When we finally left the station and headed back to the hotel we're staying at to get ready for our show tonight, I check my phone. Lindsey texted me back saying she wishes she could see me soon. I reply and tell her it will only be a few months until we're together again, so she doesn't need to worry, it won't be forever. One of the other messages is from Twitter, Hesta Prynn updated and posted a photo, which I look at as Sara and I wait in the elevator to get to the eleventh floor of the hotel. The picture is of Hesta on stage and it makes me anxious to get on stage and play music, too, which will be in about four hours from now. The last message is from Ivy, a friend of mine who lives in Seattle herself and will be at the show tonight.

_woah awkward! i can't believe someone even asked you about quincest. ew! lol can't wait to see you guys play tonight! so excited!_

I type out a quick reply, agreeing with her and claiming my mutual excitement for the show.

_Ding! _The elevator doors open and Sara walks out ahead of me, finding her separate room and uttering a 'See you in a few hours' to me. I lock my door behind me and toss my phone onto the hotel bed, all made up and waiting to be slept in, but I won't get to slip into sleep between its sheets until after midnight. My suitcase lies on the floor beside it and I kick off my shoes before taking my Mac out of the luggage. I hop onto the bed and lay back against the headboard, half sitting, half lying down. I check my email and wander around YouTube and Tumblr for about thirty minutes before opening a new tab to Google. My fingers hover over the keyboard for a while. I'm just curious. It couldn't hurt to see what it really is...

The middle finger of my left hand seems to press the 'Q' key all on its own. My middle finger on my right hand presses in the rest of the letters of my last name. All that's left is for my left hand to finish the job.

_C-E-S-T_

The pinky of my right hand clicks 'enter' and away I go on the slippery slope of my curiousity.


	2. Chapter 2

The results page loads and I read the descriptions of the first few. My eyes are set on the definition of 'quincest' from a website called Urban Dictionary.

_A genre of fanfiction centered around a fictional romantic/sexual relationship between lesbian twin sisters, Tegan and Sara Quin of the band Tegan ..._

I get a heavy feeling in my chest as I tap on the side of my laptop with my ring finger. I don't know if I should keep going with this. A part of me is disgusted that someone would even think about me and my sister that way. _I've _never thought of Sara more than a sister. Sometimes I feel like we have the most amazing fans, but there are a quiet chunk of them that send us these weird gifts in the mail or just do the oddest things to get our attention. And we're not even that interesting! We're just like them. But when it comes to people who imagine us doing things that sisters shouldn't, I feel almost violated, like they're crossing some kind of unseen boundary, one that shouldn't be crossed at all.

Another part of me is totally intrigued by it all, for reasons I can't be sure of, and that's what pushes me to click on one of the links at the top of the web page. It redirects to a site called and the entire page is basically writing. I read the first line of the story and cover my mouth with my hand. I finish the first chapter and almost feel relieved. I wasn't expecting to actually _enjoy _reading this.

The story starts out as my 'character' being silently in love with Sara's 'character' and feeling conflicted about acting on her desire. The writing's articulate and well paced, almost as good as the novel I'm reading right now. I don't know why I'm so surprised by this, but it keeps me wanting to read more. By the third chapter, the fictional Tegan and Sara have gotten drunk and end up kissing. The story line is so realistic, like it could actually happen, that it's almost too easy for me to picture it in my head. The next chapter jumps right into a vivid sex scene. They write out every detail. How many times Sara kisses Tegan and how long they spend eating each other out. I feel my hands start to clam up and I wipe away the sweat on my jeans. I'm disgusted and turned on all at once, but I don't want to quit reading. I can't stop glancing at the front door every now and then, paranoid that someone might burst through the locks and rip my laptop out of my hands, pointing a bony finger at me and screaming, "Tegan, you're fucking gross! Why are you reading stories about you and Sara having sex?" In the middle of the fourth paragraph, I can't take it anymore. I balance my laptop on my right leg and undo the button and zipper of my pants. I slip my right hand into my boxer briefs and I can't believe how wet I am. I bring my hand up to my face and shake my head at the evidence of my arousal.

_How can this be turning me on? I shouldn't _like _this! God, maybe I _am _sick! _

I check the door again and wipe my fingers dry on my shirt. What if Sara walks in and catches me masterbating to a story about us? I close my computer and get up to take a cold shower, terrified at the thought. I feel a dull pang of shame rise and swell in my gut. If anyone found out that I might be interested in Quincest, what would they think of me? Would they shun me from society? What if I just told them that I was curious, would they believe me, or would they assume I'm some kind of creep? My stomach twists at the thought of being seen as even more of an outcast. I'm already odd and awkward enough! What would our fans think of me, of our band? My curiosity could risk our career. "Lesbian twin sisters who are more than just sisters!" All the more labels that would be cast at us like raw bait to get us talking. The media would feed us alive.

So why do I feel a sense of thrill from reading it? Why do I want to go back and read more?

I step into the shower and lather a dollop of strawberry scented shampoo into my hair. I close my eyes and let my imagination wander. I remember the sex scene I'd read not five minutes ago and picture it in my head. All the details were written out for my brain to translate into something I can see, like a daydream or a movie projected on the inside of my eyelids. I can only see our faces, quick outlines of eyes and limbs, but it's difficult for me to picture us naked together, and I'm a bit glad for that. I catch only glimpses of smooth, pale skin on skin, but never everything at once. I can hear the wet smack of our lips colliding. I run my hands along my arms and imagine it's the perfect copy of my sisters that are loosening my muscles. I play the scene over and over in my head. Sara's slightly parted lips hover above me, inches away from making me squirm under her soft tongue. Her bangs fall in front of her face, shrowding a brilliantly honey-colored eye, leaving the other to stare right into my soul. Half-lidded and glazed, much like they are when she's on stage, lost in the music and not entirely there. I picture the back of Sara's head bobbing from between my legs, lapping up and- _oh god, I need to stop thinking about it. I need..._

"Fffuck!"

I open my eyes and stare down at my hand between my thighs, stunned to find my fingers still massaging myself. It feels like the water has gotten hotter, though I know it's probably done the opposite.

_This is bad, this is really bad. _I can already hear that voice telling me that maybe it's not really the thought of Sara and I together, maybe it was just that it's been a few months since I've seen Lindsey and the writing was so graphic... That little voice is getting louder now, I can hear it over the stream of water, screaming 'Deny it! Pretend this didn't just happen! You never read any damn fanfiction about fucking your own sister!'

I pick up the bar of soap and roughly start washing myself, making sure to keep my eyes wide open. Why did I even bother with looking it up? I should have just ignored it like Sara said she had. I just won't read any more. I'll just delete my browsing history. I'll let Denial have his way and I can forget about all of this.

I've got to meet Sara in the lobby of the hotel in an hour. I get out of the shower, dry myself off, and get dressed. Before I can get to my laptop again, my phone rings and I pick it up reluctantly when I see who it is.

"Hello?" I say in my brightest tune.

"Soundcheck is an hour earlier, so we have to leave now. You ready?" Sara says.

I nod, even though she can't see me, and hang up without saying much more than a mumbled 'yeah'. I tuck my phone into my back pocket and glance at my Mac before I walk out of the hotel room towards the elevator. Sara is already standing there, waiting with her head aimed at the screen of her phone, her fingers tapping away, possibly texting one of the boys about the changed schedule.

I notice she's wearing dark blue skinny jeans, the ones that puncuate her bum. I have an urge to ask her to change them, but I bite my tongue, literally, when I realize that I really don't want her to. Her favorite brown leather jacket delicately hangs off her shoulders. She's wearing a thin, gray low-cut shirt that exposes her prominent collarbones that seem razor sharp as I step closer to her. I stop five feet away, keeping my eyes glued to her Oxford's. Denial is warning me to keep my distance, as if even standing next to her will give me away. She looks up at me and smiles, catching me off guard since I was staring right at her, rather than avoiding her face like I thought I was doing.

_What are you freaking out about? She doesn't know anything. You just need to relax. Sara is your sister. She annoys the hell out of you all the time. Sometimes you can't even stand to look at her. _

"Tryin' to look like a fuckin' lumberjack, hey?" Sara laughs and points to her head. "All you need is a fox hat and you're ready to get to choppin'." Sara holds her phone in her hand and brings her fists together, holding an invisible axe and swinging it once, cutting into an equally invisible tree.

"So the red plaid is a bit much, you think?" I smirk and pull at the hem of the material. I do sort of look like I could be heading off to the woods to gather up some firewood. "Should I change?"

Sara tilts her head and shrugs. "I mean, if you _like _looking like the true Canuck you are, then power to you." She grins when I sigh and turn around, heading back to my room to change. When I get there, I pick up the first clean shirt I can find and put it on. I look around the room, feeling like I'm forgetting something important. I rush over to my laptop and open the screen. I press the space bar a half dozen times and nothing happens.

_Shit, I can't believe I forgot to charge it!_

I toss it back onto the bed and run my hands through my hair, frustrated.

_I'll just do it later._

My phone vibrates in my pocket, making me flinch. It's Sara again, but I don't bother to answer her text. When I leave my room and meet back up with her at the elevator, she's got her arms crossed. I give her a sorry look and she sighs without a word and turns to press the button.

The elevator ride to the first floor is quiet at first. Sara doesn't appear to be bothered by it. I, on the other hand, feel slightly paranoid again. Like somehow Sara has the ability to read minds and is probing into mine right now.

"Tegan, you okay? Look, I didn't mean to like, hurt your feelings or anything, I was just kidding. You don't look like a lumberjack."

I shake my head and give her a fast smile. "Hey, I'm good. Just can't wait to play tonight, you know?" I wiggle my fingers to get the 'excitement' out of them. Sara nudges me in the shoulder with her elbow.

"Yeah, me too. But I can't wait to drink tomorrow, since we have a couple of days off, you know."

I nod, but on the inside I'm shaking my head. At least we'll be in separate rooms, I find relief in that.

"No, I know."

We leave the hotel and climb onto the tour bus. Sara sits at the table in the kitchen, already getting started with fixing the third cup of coffee she's had today. I reside to where Shaun is watching TV and join him in distracting myself with a few episodes of True Blood. Thankfully, Sara stays in the kitchen and cracks jokes with Ted and Al, giving me a good fifteen minutes to focus my attention on the television screen.

_It shouldn't be this hard to ignore her. Just watch TV, don't even look at her. _

I forget about Sara until she coughs. Shaun and I look over to her and she raises her hand, shaking her head. "I'm fine, sorry." She takes a sip of her coffee and I watch her tongue swipe along her bottom lip and lick her top teeth.

"Ugh, I forgot to brush my teeth." Sara sets her cup down on the table and gets up from her seat. Denial tells me to avert my eyes when she walks past Shaun and I to go to the bathroom in the back of the bus, but my eyes flick to her backside for a fraction of a second and I bite my lip, anyway.

_She's your sister, she's your sister, she's your sister._


	3. Chapter 3

Seven minutes and we arrive at the Showbox. Sara has gone back to her seat and I have stayed in mine, keeping my eyes glued to the television screen, not really watching it, just feigning interest in the program. I think I've pulled off acting like nothing is different, even when everything to me has changed, and drastically. I didn't just read a story about falling in love with my sister, I actually _liked _it. What's worse is that I went as far as getting off to thinking about having sex with her! Who even does that kind of thing? I want to be repulsed by it _so _badly, but when I glance over to Sara sipping her cup of coffee, I don't feel that way at all. I'm not sickened by _her_, I'm ashamed of _myself_. I shouldn't have even been interested in quincest, let alone bother to have looked it up. Now look where I am, sexually frustrated and paranoid. I would be fine if it were any other girl, but no. It's Sara, my twin sister.

But it's okay, I was just curious. I have the self control to keep my thoughts clear. I _am _almost thirty, after all. I should be able to forget about this. If I can pretend the last two hours didn't happen, then I can get through this show tonight without any slips of the tongue. There will be at least a couple thousand people in the audience. If I say anything remotely suspicious, I swear I'll walk right off that fucking stage!

_Get it together, Tegan. You'll be fine. Remember, she has no clue. You'll be fine, just keep your mouth shut._

Our tour bus stops and I stand up before Sara can even place her mug down on the table and give me one of those looks that says 'What's up with you today? You're acting weird'. I'm out the door ahead of everyone else, even our tour manager, who is always the first to leave. I left in such a hurry that I made it to soundcheck a good minute or two before everyone else. Our guitar tech brought out our gear and I helped him set up the keyboards. I want to keep myself busy, so I make a point to have my hands full when Sara finally walks on stage. She takes her time making her way to her mic, setting her Blackberry on her designated keyboard and adjusting her pedals. She bends down and picks up a cord, her backside is presented to me for the second time this evening. I stop what I'm doing and shut my eyes, turning on my heels and going in the other direction, ignoring the fact that I have no business behind the speakers. I only want to hide for a moment and clear my head, which seems to be getting away from me lately.

_Sister, sister, sister._

I catch Al as he's passing by with Sara's guitar and hand him her microphone. He smiles at me and takes it over to her mic stand. I watch him walk up beside Sara and hand her her guitar. I wipe my hands on my jeans, clammy again. I'm a nervous wreck and it has nothing to do with playing a show tonight. My cell phone buzzes in my back pocket. I take it out and start walking towards my mic stand so I can look distracted in front of Sara. Maybe she won't bother me if I seem too busy. I keep my back to an angle from her and go through the usual routine of making sure my guitars are tuned and the keyboards all sound perfect. Ted and the boys join us and I'm thankful that they're here to make some noise that has been absent ever since we got off the bus.

I plug in my old Gibson, a twin to Sara's, and wait for Chris, our sound guy, to give me the que to start. I can see Sara glance at me out of the corner of my eye as I look up at Chris. She's parting her bangs away from her face with one hand, a habit of hers that says she's focusing on getting things done. She does it a lot when one of us gets carried away with a story on-stage. I get a feeling that she won't be doing it much tonight, since I have no desire to talk, which I believe she's caught on to. I've had to carry on the banter or cut back on it a few times on this tour. I can usually tell when Sara's not in the mood to talk, and it's apparent that she can tell when I'd rather not be talkative, too. In my peripheral, she has her hands resting on the top of her guitar, one clutching the bridge and the other hanging a wrist over the side.

"Okay, ready girls?" Chris gives us the sign to start and I head into the first verse of You Wouldn't Like Me, my voice cracking a few seconds in. I stop playing and turn my head to cough away from the microphone. My bottle of water is resting on the ground and I lean down to pick it up, uncapping it and taking a few drawn out swigs.

"Jesus, Tegan, you okay?" Sara says from the other side of the stage. I shake my head, then nod and put my water bottle down. I cough once more to clear my throat and pull a pick from my mic stand.

"Alright." I say and start the song over from the beginning.

Sara stops us in the middle of the third verse. "Uh, Chris, can you turn Tegan's mic up? Just a little, yeah."

I pick up on where we left off and finish the rest of the song. I take off my guitar and Al is already behind me with my white Gretsch. We trade off guitars and he walks over to Sara, her own tan Gretsch in hand. Ted moves to my keyboard and Chris signals us to start the next song, which is The Con. When we hit the chorus, I hear that Sara's guitar is out of tune, but I keep myself from mentioning it. Maybe she'll notice, and luckily she does by the second verse. She stops us and tunes her guitar. We all wait quietly and I lightly pluck at a few strings while we wait.

"Tegan, can you quit? Sorry, it's just really distracting." Sara says and I look over at her. She has her head cocked down toward the tuning pedal and her hands are busy plucking and tuning her own guitar. Her eyes flick up at me for a second and I swallow the lump in my throat to say 'Sorry'. I have to take another drink of my water before we start the next song, which is Sara's. She makes a sharp 'clock' with her tongue into the microphone after I stop us in the middle of Back In Your Head.

"Can you turn my keyboard up?" I ask Chris and Sara makes another _clock!_ into her mic.

The rest of souncheck goes on like this and I hurry backstage when we're through. Ted and the boys are there before me with Sara right behind me as I make my way to our dressing room. As I'm about to open the door, Sara's hand materializes on my left shoulder. I do my best not to shove her hand away and turn my head to face her.

"What?" I say, looking as concerened as possible. If I can act like there's something the matter with her, then perhaps I can convince her that there's nothing wrong with me.

"You forgot your phone." She says and holds out my Blackberry in her hand. I take it from her, feeling a little stupid for leaving it out on stage when someone (and it's happened before) could steal it. I say thanks as I open the dressing room door and go inside, Sara following behind. She goes off to sit with Shaun, who has a bag of peanuts resting in his lap. She flops down beside him on the couch and reaches her hand inside the bag, popping a few peanuts in her mouth and laughing at whatever joke Johnny just cracked. I slip my phone into my pocket and head over to the bathroom to wash my face, which has grown warm from sweat and makes me feel far from attractive.

Tonight shouldn't be too bad. It's just like any other show. So why am I so nervous?

"Ten minutes, Tegan!" I hear Ted shout from inside the bathroom. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I don't _look _any different, but I feel different. I make a dozen silly faces and pinch my cheeks.

It's like any other show, I tell myself, tomorrow you get two days off.

I briefly wonder what the hell I'm going to do for two days, and then I realize what I would _like _to do. But I don't want to do that, no. I do, but I don't. But if I'm being honest with myself, I really do. Though, I don't.

"Tegan, come on, you've been in there for five minutes, I have to pee!" Shaun cries from outside the bathroom door. I sigh and open it, Shaun is bouncing on his feet, his hands balled up in fists.

"You're such a baby." I laugh at him and step out of the bathroom. Shaun mouths a 'Thank you' and shuts the door behind him.

"...I'm going to eat _all _of these nuts." I hear Johnny claim beside Sara, who laughs and claps her hands together.

"That's what she said!"

I can't hide my grin as I walk over to the table set up with snacks for us. I pick out a granola bar and a bottle of water. I notice Sara has another cup of coffee and I shake my head. I hear the toilet flush and Shaun comes out of the bathroom a few seconds later.

"Shaun, Johnny totally just ate all your _nuts_!" Sara laughs and Johnny nudges her in the shoulder.

"I did not!" Johnny shoves the bag of peanuts into Shaun's hands and points to the lone roasted peanut. "See? I left you _one_." Johnny and Sara burts into fits of giggles and Ted shakes his head, too. I take my granola bar and bottle of water over to Ted, who is sitting on the other couch, watching TV.

"How much longer until we go on stage?" I ask him, taking a bite out of my Cliff Bar.

"About two minutes." He says this like it's no big deal that we're supposed to be heading out of the dressing room right now.

"Crap." I finish off my granola bar just as our tour manager passes by the dressing room and tells us we've got to get going. Shaun and Johnny quit play fighting and Sara takes the last few sips of her coffee and we're all out the door before Pretty Woman starts playing, signalling our arrival.

Sara steps by my side, the boys behind us and we're all lined up. Her shoulder bumps into mine a few times while we wait for our okay to walk out. It's so loud and dark, the audience is pumped up for us, screaming at the top of their lungs. It helps me ignore the feel of Sara's bony shoulder lightly brushing mine each time someone walks past us, causing Sara to make way for them. My shirt is sleeveless, exposing my arm to the leather of Sara's jacket.

_At least you can't feel her skin, too._

"Okay, go!" The stage director tells us, but I don't catch it the first time. Sara's hands find the small of my back and gently push me to start walking on stage. I take a step forward and Sara's hand accidentally touches lower past my back. I almost leap away from her touch. The crowd starts screaming louder when they see me stumble onto the stage and I wave at them to keep the focus away from my awkwardness. I grab my guitar from Al and make it to the mic stand without falling, a great feat, in my opinion.

The lights block out the faces of the crowd and soon I'm singing my heart out, eyes closed and open mouthed, a smile on my face as the audience sings with me: "Maybe I would have been something you'd be good at!"


	4. Chapter 4

By the third song, I'm beginning to loosen up and lose my nerves. This isn't so bad, it's just like any other show. The audience is getting into the music and I'm bound to do the same, if not by the encore. We practiced a few of our 'oldies' before starting this tour. Sara said she wanted to bring back some of our earlier songs and try to revamp them, give them life again. It was a pain having to go back and listen to our old records. If I could tell the younger me anything, it would be to get a haircut and stop wearing big coats. I looked ridiculous. But it was cool back then, so at the time it seemed like a good idea to wear wallet chains and baggy jeans. But I'm glad our mom let us have that freedom of choice. It's amazing she didn't find out about our raving habits for a while. How we got away with coming home stoned and wasted and manage not to get arrested, I don't know.

I look down at the sheet of paper taped to the stage floor. My copy of the set-list tells me the next song is Sara's. She's busy tuning a string down, so I take the free time to talk to the audience. I go to speak into the microphone, but Sara gets to hers before me.

"So, this next song, I wrote it after I read this book. Have any of you read The Hotel New Hampshire? Well, this next song was inspired by The Hotel New Hampshire and the relationship between the brother and the sister."

One person in the audience cries 'Ew!' from within the sea of people.

"Ew, but you know, god bless Jonh Irving for touching on that subject." Sara shrugs and finishes tuning her guitar. My face flushes and I wipe my brow. I've read the book Sara is referring to. She recommended it to me after she had finished reading it and even let me borrow her copy. I didn't know she had written a song about it, though. There are things I find out about Sara on stage that she never discusses while we're not playing music in front of an audience. It's the same with me. Some subjects just never come up off stage and we don't ask eachother what our songs mean. If either of us wants the other to know what they mean, we'll tell the other. It's always been some kind of unspoken agreement that we've kept since we started making music over a decade ago.

I remember a few years ago when we were playing an in-store, Sara said that this song was partly written for me. I run through the simple lyrics in my head, trying to pick out what they could mean in regards to me. Should I even bother connecting the link between the incestuous relationship between John and Franny, the brother and sister in The Hotel New Hampshire? It scares me that Sara would even write a song about it. Why would she? What is so special about their relationship that she was inspired to make music out of it?

My mind doesn't want to connect the dots, but it does at the same time.

Sara begins strumming her guitar and I have to quit thinking about the possibilities. "Love pull your sore ribs in. I will pull your tangles out.."

It frustrates me how deep Sara's lyrics are. Sometimes I know what she's talking about, but most of the time, I'm as clueless as our fans. She spends hours working on lyrics, while I just write out what I'm feeling. I've dished out a song in a couple of hours. I've sent more demo's to Sara, I write more songs, but she comes up with these melodies and tracks that have me going 'Genius!'. It's often that I'll get a demo sent to me and have no idea what to add to it, because it's perfect and already done when she sends them. I'll send her one of my finished demo's and get a call later the same day telling me I need to work on a third verse or the song is too rushed or that she's already recorded backup vocals and is working on a drum loop.

"In the back of your car I feel like I have traveled nowhere." Sara's voice is clean and laced with emotion. I look over to her and see that her eyes are closed, I'm not surprised. I want to close my own eyes, but I'm so caught up with anazlyzing the words she's singing. What do they mean? How are they related to the book? How are they related to _me_?

I almost forget to sing along with her. "What will bring me home? What will make me stay, stay...Well I don't know." My favorite part comes up and I will myself to make my looks a little more subtle. I don't want to seem like I'm staring at Sara, but I can't help it. I love the way she looks when her mouth is pressed up the the microphone, eyes closed, lips parted. My mind wanders again to the place I wish it wouldn't, to the place, deep down, I really want it to go. She's hovering over me again...

"I don't know... I don't know..."

_I don't know!_ I want to scream at Sara, make her explain what these lyrics mean! Maybe I'm thinking too much. I need to try to stop thinking, that's it. That should do the trick. Just stop thinking...

My fingers hit the wrong note on my guitar and I wince, hoping Sara doesn't notice. But I know she has, she always catches the mistakes, and she always stops us to point them out. I hope to god she doesn't do it this time and call attention to me. The last thing I need is her glaring at me, along with the rest of the audience. I hit the right notes as she gets to the chorus, my fingers starting to shake and grow clammy again. Sara doesn't stop playing.

"Everything in my body says not tonight, everything in my body says no." I keep my eyes on the neck of my guitar, daring my fingers to fuck up again. "What will bring me home? What will make me stay, stay..."

_What the hell is she talking about? Why can't I put two and two together and figure out what she's talking about? Why do I care so much?_

My fingers slip again and this time there's no way my mistake can go unnoticed. Sara would have to be deaf not to hear the violent _twang!_ of one of the strings on my guitar popping. I haven't broken a guitar string in years! At least not live. My face grows hot and I wish I could just disappear right now. Sara stops playing and I stare down at the broken string, dangling over the side of my guitar as if it's decided it's had enough with being plucked for six months. We buy coated strings, ones that last us a while and won't break as easily as the cheaper ones. I wipe the sweat off my hands on the side of my jeans and turn around to look for Al, our guitar tech.

"Welp, looks like Tegan's popped her G string again." Sara says and the audience erupts in fits of laughter.

Al brings me another guitar and takes my other one to replace the strings. I turn back around and give the audience an embarrased smile. I'm just glad Sara isn't upset, or at least that she's not showing it.

"Sorry, we can start over if you want." I say away from the microphone and to Sara. Her smile brings a pain to my chest and for a moment, I feel like filling the space between us and hugging her. I feel like I'm decieving her, and in a way I am. But I'd rather be trampled by bulls than admit I'd do more than just hug her if I had the chance.

"No, let's just move on to the next song." Sara leans back over to her mic and then steps back again to say something else. "Are you okay?" I can't look into her eyes for too long, so I bend down to pick up my bottle of water. I take a sip and nod my head.

"I think I ate something." I grimace and touch my stomach for emphasis. Sara points to the water bottle in my hand.

"Drink." She says and then goes back to her microphone while I pretend to take another sip.

The audience has gotten rowdy, waiting for us to play another song. I hear several people shouting "I love you!" and one person scream "I'll pop your G-string, Tegan!"

Al rushes back on stage and trades guitars with Sara. "Al, everyone." Sara says to the audience and Al stops to wave as the crowd gets louder. She strums her guitar a few times, making sure it sounds right. I put my water bottle down next to the set-list. The next song is mine. It's short, but I somehow manage to forget the lyrics half the time. Lindsey is on my mind now. I wish I were in Northshore with her right now. She could take away these thoughts I'm having of Sara. She could help me relax.

"Don't bend, don't bleed, don't beg, don't scream, don't whine, don't fight, don't tell me, don't tell me, don't tell me. Don't feel, don't tear, don't kiss, don't care, don't touch, don't want me. Don't want me, don't want me. Something's so sick about this, my misery's so addictive." I can't believe how relavant these lyrics are, it's too easy to apply them to how I'm feeling right now. I feel guilty as I remind myself of the true meaning behind them. Lindsey, my girlfriend. It doesn't matter if the person I'm thinking about is my sister, I'm still being emotionally unfaithful. I'm still thinking of someone other than her. Could I really become addicted to reading those stories? Denial says of course not, but I know it's possible.

"Don't run, don't hide, don't hurt, don't lie, don't breathe, don't try, don't find me. Don't find me, don't find me. Don't cringe, don't clench, don't look, don't flinch, don't know, don't go, don't leave me. Don't leave me, don't leave me." Since I'm playing chords instead of individual notes now, I find it's not as easy to fuck up. It's a simple song with complicated lyrics. Why do I do this to myself? Here I am, on the verge of forgetting the lyrics to my own song and yet I'm playing the guitar perfectly. I feel guilty for ruining Sara's last song. She didn't even get to finish it.

_Did you even want her to finish it? I bet you popped the string on purpose._

"Don't sing, don't talk, don't yell, don't laugh, don't think, don't speak, don't save me. Don't save me, don't save me. Don't stare, don't glare, don't heal, don't mend, don't take, don't send, don't love me. Don't love me, don't love me." I feel like I'm shouting these things at Sara instead of singing them for the faceless crowd. Maybe that would be better, if I just told her not to tempt me. But it's not her fault, she shouldn't have to stop being herself just because I can't keep my head clear of dirty thoughts. I should be telling myself these things. I don't want to think about it, I shouldn't say anything, but I don't want to stop!

"Something's so sick about this, my misery's so addictive. I'm halfway there watching Northshore from the floor singing to you over my sholder."

We end the song with no mistakes, to my surprise. The audience cheers and I thank them, a victorious smile spreading across my face. Another three songs without breaking and I'm feeling my nerves settle down. Sara hasn't tried to banter between songs. She probably thinks I'm still feeling sick or something. Again, guilt fills me.

_Don't run, don't hide, don't hurt, don't lie._

But I need to run and hide. If Sara _ever _found out about what I've done while thinking about her, I don't know if I could ever look her in the eye again. I don't want to hurt her and I don't want to lie to her, but that's what I have to do to keep it a secret from her. Even if I did decide to admit that I've gotten off thinking about her like that, who wouldn't be hurt by it? It certainly wouldn't make her feel _better_. Who would smile and say 'No, it's okay, I'm glad you told me!' when their sister admits that they've read stories about you fucking them and then goes on to tell you that they like it?

We go the rest of the show without telling many stories or bantering at all. I feel like we've disappointed the audience tonight. We haven't been nearly as entertaining as usual. It's my fault, I know. I can't wait to go back to my hotel room and sleep until noon.

_But the computer, you have to delete the history. Don't forget to delete it. You have to delete it, even if you don't want to._

_I have to, though. I have to._

_You don't want to._

_Shut up, Tegan, stop talking to yourself!_

We get through the encore with no mistakes, as well. I feel drained by the end of it and I just want to fall asleep. I'm tempted to do so on the bus as we're driving back to the hotel. There were a few groups of fans waiting outside our tour bus, hoping they could catch us for just a moment to snap a couple of pictures and get autographs. But it's late and all of us are tired. Security keeps them from getting to us and I feel bad for not stopping as I rush onto the bus far ahead of Sara. She finds me sitting alone watching TV again when she finally makes it onto the bus after Al and the boys have loaded our gear up. She stands in front of the screen, blocking my view and forcing me to avert my eyes from her chest, her collarbones glistening from sweat formed after playing the show tonight.

"Tegan, you're okay, aren't you? Not feeling sick anymore?" She asks me, concerned.

I try to look around her at the TV as I speak. "Yeah, I was just feeling a little nauseous. I'm okay now. Thanks." She nods and steps away before changing her mind to say something else.

"Oh, and we're all going to go out for some drinks tomorrow. If you're not feeling sick still, feel free to join us." She offers.

I mull it over, considering the risks of drinking with my sister. "No, thanks." I shake my head and smile for good measure. "I think I'll just stay in and read."


	5. Chapter 5

The next night, Sara and the boys leave the hotel we checked into to drink at the nearest and cleanest club a few blocks away. I stay in my room and wait until I'm sure I'm not going to be bothered before I lock the door and pull out my laptop. My ears are warm by the time I open the incognito tab and type in the web address I've memorized by heart. I turn the TV on, keeping the volume loud enough to drown out any hushed sounds I might make. With my ears wide open for the sound of the door, I continue where I left off in the new fiction I was reading last night after the show.

_God, every inch of her is perfect, Sara thought as her fingers traveled up and down the side of Tegan's naked and statuesque body. They lay together, naked, in Tegan's bed, staring into each other's eyes, searching for some secret, some sign that they had been missing all along. Everything was perfect, calm, sweet._

_With a light chuckle, Tegan smiled and let her eyes take in Sara's body, starting with the soft, pale flesh at the base of her throat and ending at her thin and seemingly weak ankles. Everything about Sara screamed vulnerable but Tegan knew better. Tegan knew how powerful she was. She'd fallen victim more than once to that incredible jaw line and those slender hips, the sharpness of her collarbone protruding from her chest and the soft beauty of the pale flesh of her abdomen. For the first time in Tegan's life, she was finding it difficult to be charming. She was too love sick to be suave._

_Sara's fingers strayed from Tegan's side to her chest, walking a thin line between her breasts with the middle and index fingers. Every touch sent Tegan into a new level of ecstasy. As Sara flattened her on her back and straddled her stomach, pinning her arms above her head, Tegan let her head slip back into the pillow and her eyes close. Sara's mouth was at her ear._

_"Tell me what to do."_

_"You know what I want."_

_"I know, but I want you to tell me what to do and how to do it. In detail."_

_Tegan was taken aback by Sara's demands. She wasn't sure what to say or how to say it. Feeling Sara's body inching away slowly from her own, she spoke._

_"Start by biting my neck. Do it hard, hard enough to leave marks." Sara bit hard on the sensitive skin where Tegan's shoulder met the side of her neck. Tegan let out a loud moan before taking one of Sara's hands, running it over her breasts, and moving it down to her throbbing center. She could feel the need pulsing through her body in perfect time with her heart._

_"Three fingers. Hard. Fast," was all she could manage as Sara's fingers teasingly trailed around her clit, leaving fire in their wake. Sara entered her with three fingers, pumping hard and fast. Tegan could barely hold her body in place as Sara complied. There was something oddly arousing about telling Sara what to do. Tegan's hips bucked against Sara's hand, begging Sara to speed up._

_Sara's lips made their way past Tegan's breasts and lingered teasingly just beneath her belly button. "Tell me about your dream house, Tegan. What does it look like?"_

_Sara sunk further and Tegan could barely think let alone speak. As she opened her mouth, Sara's tongue was making rapid, tight circles around her clit, sending Tegan further away from being able to speak._

_"There are walls. It looks out over the sea." Tegan forced through gritted teeth._

_Sara looked up for a moment. "Describe our bed. How does it feel beneath you as I fuck you?" She resumed her position between Tegan's legs._

_Tegan's hands shot out and latched onto the bedspread, gripping it tightly in her closed fists. "Soft, so soft. Oh, so, so, s-soft."_

_"And how does it feel, me fucking you? What are you feeling?"_

_Tegan let out a long moan. "It feels so f-f-fucking fantastic! Don't you dare fucking stop!"_

_"What does it feel like, Tegan?"_

_Tegan's vision was blurred as her insides coiled before the pressure of the most pleasurable fury that she'd ever felt started to build._

I wiggle my fingers underneath the waistband of my boxer briefs, applying much awaited pressure to my clit. I've been teasing myself for the past five minutes, feeling the warmth in my center pool. I make myself ache to be touched before I can't stand it any longer and finally give in. I enter myself with three fingers easily as I'm already soaking wet from anticipation. I feel Sara's fingers, identical to mine, instead of my own, fucking me relentlessly. I close my eyes and imagine it is Sara who is making me hold my breath and bite my lip, fighting not to scream out in pleasure.

SARA

I slide the room key into the lock and turn it slowly, not wanting to wake Tegan if she's actually is trying to catch up on sleep or let her know that I'm here if she's doing what I think she is. I wasn't supposed to come back here until eleven, but I don't want to miss my chance. I push the door open as quietly as I can, but a noise stops me in my tracks from opening it all the way. The sound of my name swirls in my ears. A breathy moan follows and my eyes open wide, hyper aware of what might happen just a few feet away from me. I keep the door ajar and press the heel of my hand to my forehead. My mind can barely form a coherent thought; I'm already buzzed from the five shots I took at the bar.

TEGAN

Eyes still closed, I soothe my swollen button with my fingertips, drenched in my cum. My hips twitch when I press down too hard and I curl my toes, relishing in the high of my orgasm. I hear the faint click of the door closing and I jump, almost knocking my laptop on the ground. I rip my hand out of my boxers without bothering to wipe my cum on the sheets and slam my laptop closed. My heart feels like it might pound out of my chest when the lights go out, leaving the only source of light to come from the TV. I kick my way out of my bed and land on the floor, hitting my elbow on the side table in the process.

"Who the fuck is in here?" I scream, frightened out of my wits. I watch as the intruder steps into the light of the TV. My heart almost stops when I see the silhouette of Sara staring at me. She's biting her lip, looking just as afraid as I am. She lifts her left arm and switched the TV off, deleting all light from the room.

"S-Sara, turn the lights back on. I can't see anything. You scared the shit out of me!" I lift myself off of the floor, using the bed for balance and soothe my elbow. I try to ignore the stickiness of my right hand and reach for the lamp on the side table.

"Please don't turn on the light." Sara whispers from the other side of the bed. The sureness and authority in her voice stops me in my tracks. She steps closer and I can only see a faint outline of her face. She sounds like she's been drinking, but it's too early for her to be back from the club, it's only nine at night.

"Seriously, Sara…" I move to turn the lamp on, but Sara's fingers are suddenly wrapped around my wrist.

"I said please."

I can smell the whiskey on Sara's breath. My chest feels like it's dropped down into my stomach, I'm so nervous. She saw me, she's caught me wet handed and I've got nowhere to run. Does this mean she knows? Why would she be so close to me right now, or why would she have snuck in here like she just did? So many questions are running through my head, but all I can do is try to control my breathing while Sara just stands here in front of me, holding my wrist from turning on the light, her face mere inches from mine. My legs are shaking as she pulls my hand slowly towards her. She takes her time in leading my hand down closer to her stomach. My heart thumps so loud in my chest, I feel like the entire hotel can hear it. She guides my hand lower still, until it reaches where I was afraid it would. She presses my still-wet fingers against her crotch and I have to look away. This cannot be happening.

"Are you scared?" Sara's voice is uncertain but laced with want. Of course I'm scared, I want to say. I'm fucking terrified. I've never been more nervous in my life. But I can't say a thing; I feel like I've forgotten how to speak.

"Don't be scared." At her words, my fingers twitch between her legs and I feel her grip tighten on my wrist. "You can tell me to stop." Sara's other hand mirrors mine and she lightly rubs me between my legs. My knees are bound to buckle as she slowly traces the length of my slit, feeling the heat and wetness building there because of her. I'm speechless, unable to really process what's happening right now. I want to make my brain shut up and just let me feel Sara's fingers working me, making me shake under her gentle touch. My jaw is slack and I flick my tongue along my lips to keep them from chapping. Sara must take this as a sign for her to make a move, because the next thing I know, her lips are brushing with mine, almost knocking me off my feet when she rubs me harder between my quivering thighs.

Butterflies fill my stomach as Sara kisses me deeper, her lips working perfectly with mine. She swiftly licks my bottom lip and I open my mouth to allow her tongue access to my own. It's only brief, but the electricity I feel before she pulls away makes me eager for more of her, for all of her. I finally find the words I had lost before.

"Why are you doing this?" I say before she has a chance to make another move. "I can't believe this is happening." I try to pull my hand away from cupping her, but Sara holds my wrist again.

"…I'm just curious. I want to know what it's like… Don't you?" Her hand grips me tighter, not wanting to let go of her opportunity to experiment with me. I don't answer at first. This is wrong in so many ways, but I can't bring myself to lie to her. I do want it, too. I can't really believe she feels the same way. I wonder if she's read Quincest, too. To think about it, I wonder if she _writes_ it.

I hesitate before nodding my head slowly. After realizing that maybe she can't see me nod, I feel embarrassed and shake my head. Sara cups a hand under my chin to keep me still and searches for my eyes. "Tell me what you want. In detail."

A lump forms in my throat as the reality of what is happening sinks in. Sara must have read the fiction I was just getting off to. But how did she know? Or is it just a coincidence? I want to ask her, but I find myself to be, once again, at a loss for words, with an inability to say them.

As if she's read my mind, Sara leans in close to my lips and whispers, "Yes, I know. I read them, too." She leans in closer and lightly nibbles on my ear, trailing a kiss to my neck. I know she can feel my pulse on her tongue, it's damned near impossible not to notice how wound up I am because of her.

"But how did you.."

Sara's lips are on mine before I can finish. She takes my bottom lip between her teeth and tugs, taking my breath away. She lets go of my wrist and grips my hips, pressing our bodies close together like a magnet that can't be pulled apart. I grab her waist, digging my nails into her bony hips and try to hold on as she deepens the kiss and pushes us toward the bed until the backs of my knees hit the edge and I fall back into the sheets.


	6. Chapter 6

My head hits the mattress with a thump as Sara situates herself between my legs. I feel her trimmed bangs tickle the exposed flesh of my stomach and those soft lips place a kiss just above the waistband of my boxers. Her hands slip underneath my shirt and grip my hips. The pads of her fingertips ghost along my side as she lifts the fabric over my head and drops it by her feet. She pulls me towards her and I push myself off of the bed to stand again. Her hands slide down to my backside, grab hold of my bum, and press my crotch flush with hers. A deep, warm pressure drops low between my thighs when our thighs are pressed together and I can feel the heat radiating from her center. She's making me wet with every move she makes. Her mouth is close enough that I can feel her breath with every exhale.

"I've always wanted to know how it feels." Sara whispers as her hands feel every inch of my torso. "If this is what it's like for other people when they touch me." Her left hand reaches up and holds my chin in place as she brushes our lips as light as she can. My focus is taken away from her lips once I feel her other hand cup my mound. I place my left hand on top of hers and apply more pressure to my growing heat. Sara catches my bottom lip between her teeth and tugs as she roughly begins to rub me. She sucks my bottom lip into her mouth and kisses me deeper, sweeping her tongue into the mix.

Her hand takes hold of my neck and she speeds up the friction between my legs. "I know you think about this, too. I know it's crossed your mind. We both want to know what it feels like to fuck each other. Is it like touching yourself, Tegan? Does it feel the same?" Sara's tongue sweeps along my neck. Her teeth graze and bite and she licks away her teeth marks. She takes my hand covering her own and pulls it to her own crotch.

I slip my hand into her pants and it's met with an impossible wetness. I trail my fingers along her soft folds and Sara hums into my ear. She pulls my boxers below my thighs and runs her fingers through my hair.

I stare at my hand, rubbing light circles around her core, in disbelief. This is actually happening. Sara sucks on my neck again and, without warning, I enter her quickly with my middle finger. She moans into my skin and I curl my single digit inside of her warm walls, reveling in the way she tightens around me. Sara bites my earlobe as I remove my finger and realize that she has two fingers waiting to fill me. I was too distracted to notice that she wasn't touching me anymore.

"Does it?" She whispers into my ear. I bite my lip and can't hold back a smile.

"It does. Except you've got more hair." At that, I enter her with two fingers and use my thumb to rub her clit. She can't catch her breath fast enough, eliciting little mewls and whimpers as I curl my fingers deep within her wet walls. I catch her lips with mine and kiss her hard, using my free hand to pull her in closer.

Sara begins to shake as my fingers work her. Before I can object, she's ripped my hand from her pants and pushes me back onto the bed.

"Tegan, wake up."

_No, no. I don't want to wake up. _

"Get up or I'll flip the fucking mattress over."

My heart drops in my chest. It was a dream. Somehow I'm disappointed and relieved all at once.

"Fuck." I groan into my pillow. I hide my head until I hear Sara warn me to wake up again.

"We have to get up now, practice in a few hours. Come on, Tegan."

"Alright, alright. Fuck, _mom." _I chide, unhappy that I have to face her first thing when I wake up after just having such a freakish dream about her. Will she figure it out if I look her in the eyes? Is that kind of thing even possible?

"And you should take a shower, you've got some major sex hair going on there." Sara laughs to herself and zips her suitcase up.

I cringe inside. _She doesn't even know what's she's doing to me right now._

"Good morning to you, too." I grumpily lift myself up out of bed and make sure to cover up the sheets with the blanket, unsure if I left a wet spot and too paranoid to take any chances. Sara turns around and hands me my suitcase. I give her a small smile in return. "Thanks."

"So, when did you get back last night?" I rub my face in the mirror of the bathroom and try to wipe away the sleep from my eyes and the pictures floating around my mind of Sara's head bobbing between my open legs.

"I slept on the bus. You locked the door and I left the extra key in here. And I didn't want to ask the front desk, so I waited until this morning." Sara shrugs and lifts her suitcase onto the bed.

"Sorry I didn't wake up if you knocked, I was really tired." I say, grimacing at how tired my eyes actually look.

"It's fine." Sara states and I hear another suitcase being lifted onto the bed.

"I hope you had fun." I say, looking at my reflection in the mirror. The front door of the hotel room opens and I see Sara pass by the bathroom, pulling her suitcase behind her. I look back at myself in the mirror, expecting to hear the door close. Sara comes back into the frame of the door and sticks her head into the bathroom. I look over to see her with half a smirk on her face.

"You, too." Sara pats the door frame and leaves through the front door.

_She really has no idea._


	7. Chapter 7

I stare at the vacant spot where Sara had just been not a moment ago.

Please be sarcasm, I think to myself. At least she didn't wink at me. I bite the nails on my fingers and forget where I am as I think of other things Sara could have done before she left. I remember a fan fiction where Sara and I had sex in the shower. Sara walked in on Tegan and stepped in, fully clothed. I bite a nail too close to skin and snap out of my daydream. The irritating pain throbbing from my middle finger feels like a stab of karma to my taboo thoughts. What if I tore off a nail every time I thought dirty of Sara? Punishment for my disgusting thoughts.

_You'd be left without fingers by the end of the day._

I sigh and step under the warm water cascading from the shower head.

_The lashings of water sent prickles up her back, and the droplets bounced off of her face and chest as she smoothed her hair back, eyes shut tightly until she heard the bathroom door opening and closing._

_Her eyes snapped open, hands shooting in opposite directions to cover her bare breasts and trim as she crossed her legs and hunched her shoulders, hiding herself as best she could. She thought it might have been a hotel maid, maybe a bell boy, at worst one of the guys coming to see if she would be joining them for dinner. The last person she would have expected it to be was Sara – she was never intrusive, and she would have noticed that the bathroom light was on and that the door was shut. She would have even taken the time to listen out for the running water, concurring that her sister would be in the shower – she was always very thorough when it came to picking up on smaller details._

_"Whoa! Jesus Sara, ever heard of knocking?" Tegan continued gripping at her flesh which was tinged red with the embarrassment of being caught naked by her sister – it was almost worse than if she would have flashed one of the band members. She cursed the hotel and its absence of shower curtains._

_Sara didn't move, she kept her eyes on Tegan as she continued to stand under the stream of cold water. Instead of stepping away with an apology like she usually would, she advanced; moving closer to Tegan, never taking her gaze off of her._

_"Seriously Sara, get the fuck out…what are you doing?" Tegan felt a slight panic, unsettled by her sister's constant stare and strange attitude as she continued to walk towards to the tub before swinging her leg over, stepping into the bath still fully clothed, "Sara, what the fuck, are you cr-"_

_This time it was Sara who cut her sister off, pressing her soft lips hard against Tegan's, who sunk back in shock, her head and back resting heavily against the tiled walls as her eyes widened in bewilderment. She wanted to push Sara away, ask her what she was doing, but she didn't want to lift her arms and reveal herself fully to her sister. Much to Tegan's relief however, Sara broke the kiss, looking Tegan deep in the eyes as she stood clothes and hair sodden and shivering slightly under the cold spray._

_No, Tegan. Pull it together. Think of something else. Beefy arms. Chest hair. Cock. Big, nasty, cock with veins._

Sara with a cock. Those hands stroking her shaft, rubbing it all over my wet pussy. Waiting to fill me, to be enveloped inside of-

"Hey, Tegan?"

I slam my skull against the shower head, curses flying out of my clenched teeth. I clear my throat and pinch the bridge of my nose as I brace myself behind the shower curtain.

"Yeah?" Perfect timing, Sara. Just perfect. I'm so close. Tentatively, I let my fingers wander lower, back where they had been nestled deep inside a heady, wet heat.

"Can I use your laptop?" Sara asks casually.

"No!" I shout before clamping my mouth shut with my free hand and squeezing my eyes shut. I pump my fingers faster, in and out of me. She can't catch me doing this unless she rips the curtain back. I feel a stone of guilt pull my chest down, but the building pleasure from my center balances it out.

_This is not okay, Tegan. Just because she doesn't know what you're doing doesn't mean it's not wrong!_

"What's up with you?" Sara asks, her voice carrying into the bathroom. She's getting closer and so am I.

"I just have a surprise for you on it and I don't want you to see it yet." I lie. At the moment, I don't feel any remorse or regret for lying to her. It's for the best right now. Still, I hope it's enough to convince her.

"I just need to look something up, I'm not going to go through your stuff." Sara presses on as my fingers continue working me.

"It's uh, open. If you open my laptop, there's no way to avoid seeing it." I grit my teeth when I hit an especially sensitive spot. I rub my neglected button and quicken the speed of my hand, planting a palm on the tiled wall to stay on my feet. My knees bend and I hang my head, biting my lip as I come fiercely against my hand.

"Fine, Tegan." Sara huffs and the sound of the front door of the hotel room shutting follows. I sit down and slide my legs close to my chest, letting the water pound on my back and shoulders. I want to drown somehow. Let the water swallow me up and spit me out like new, because I can't keep thinking about Sara. It's tearing me apart. But I want to know what it's like to be with Sara. I just know it's not possible and it's not going to happen. I can't let my sick curiosity take me under. All I've got to do is forget about it.

I lift myself out of the bathtub and dry myself off. In ten minutes, I pull my suitcase with my laptop packed under clean shirts and a bundle of socks to the tour bus. When I step on board, Sara is sitting at the kitchen table, eating a pack of saltines while Chris makes her a cup of coffee. I shuffle through the tight space to get to my bunk and put my bags away in their designated compartment.

Sara's bunk is the furthest from mine, directly above Ted and right next to Shaun. The curtain of hers is shut and my mind goes right to the fan fiction where Sara and I share a bunk during the freezing winter to keep warm. A sad pang swells in my chest thinking about the impossibilities.


	8. Chapter 8

"Just play it with the two notes instead of how you did it the first time." Sara points to the keyboard in front of me. I play the keys again and look over to her for approval. She's sitting with her Gretsch balanced on a jean-clad thigh, nodding at me. "Yeah, like that." She says and turns to face Ted beside her.

We've already set up our equipment and instruments for tonight, the venue giving us a couple of hours to practice pre-show.

Sara says something to Ted as I absentmindedly play the opening notes to Back In Your Head. Over and over again, the same four keys.

_Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum._

My eyes flick up as Sara gets out of her seat to bend over and adjust a tuning pedal in front of her. They go straight to her backside, its roundness prominent in the charcoal skinny jeans painted to her bottom half. Suddenly her head jerks back to scowl at me.

"Tegan, can you quit it?" Annoyed, with her brow knitted tight in distaste, Sara watches me as I flinch and quickly look down at my hands and stop playing. My ears feel white-hot as Johnny, Ted, and Shaun all glance up from their instruments for a moment.

"Sorry." I clear my throat. If it's not enough to feel like a freak, Sara has managed to make me feel like an embarrassed teen-aged boy, all in a days' work. It's not really her fault, though. I brought it upon myself and I deserve any lashing, no matter how small. Karma is my best friend until I can get over this sick curiosity.

Johnny pulls out his phone from behind his drum kit and Shaun goes back to plucking his bass. Sara sits back down and strums her guitar a few times, testing to see if it's tuned well enough. I feel like the odd one out. Something is different, but only I can tell. It's almost awkward to be in the same room as Sara. I shake my head slightly and step away from my keyboard.

I am so stupid for even looking up Quincest. This whole thing is going to jeopardize everything I love. I have to forget about ever reading anything like that. What would happen if someone found out? If my mum knew what I had done? Would everyone look at me different, a permanence of disgust with every glance my way?

I put my hands behind my head and take a deep breath. I take one look at my band-mates, my friends, my sister, and my mouth pulls up at the sides. I don't want to lose what I've worked so hard for. I decide to be mature and simply forget about what's happened in the past few days. It never happened. Another deep breath and I run my fingers through my hair.

I just want things to feel normal between us again.

But my curiosity is peaked.

Sara stops strumming and shifts in her seat.

"Okay, Tegan. From the top. One, two, three."

_Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum._

Throughout the song, I steal little looks at Sara. The way her neck strains on the high notes, the delicate skin that smoothes across her cheeks. The subtle veins that lie over the bones of her hands.

_Stop staring at her, Tegan._

"No, no. Stop." Sara raises her hand. "You did it again, Tegan. Just play the two notes."

I stare straight at her and slam both hands into the keys before turning around and stomping back towards the dressing room. The echo of the notes rings in my ears. People have seen us argue before, but it's been a while since the last episode. I feel like an idiot as I make my way off stage.

"Hold on." I hear Sara say, her voice getting further away with every step I take. When I make it to the door, her footsteps are close behind.

"Tegan, what the fuck is your problem?" Sara comes up to me. I quickly open the door and let it slam against the wall. Sara has to catch it from hitting her with her hand. I rub my face in my hands, feeling the tears of emotional and sexual frustration threaten to fall. I keep my back turned from Sara, but I can feel her bore those angry eyes into my skull.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just asked you to play the right notes, that's all. I'm sorry if I got on your nerves." Sara apologizes. A quiet sob escapes from my throat and I clamp my hands over my mouth to keep any more from getting out.

"Tegan?" Sara steps closer to me, but I have to get away. I search the snack table for a napkin and use it to wipe the wetness from my face.

"Sara, can you just go?" I sniff to clear my nose and turn slightly towards Sara. Her arms are crossed until she see's my blood-shot eyes. Her hands fall to her side and she takes another step closer.

"Tegan,"

"God, you're not making me feel any better!" I cry. A stage crew walks by the dressing room and I remember to regain my composure. "Just leave me alone for a little bit."

"Is it something with Lindsey? What happened, Tegan? You can tell me. Out of everyone, you should at least be able to tell me." Sara's voice switches from defensive to concerned.

_Lindsey? God, I haven't even thought of Lindsey. All I can think about is you._

"No, it's not that." I sigh and turn around to face her fully.

"Is it about me? I told you I'm sorry about the whole keyboard thing."

"Yes, Sara, it's about you." I say, exasperated. I try to sound sarcastic as I say it, hoping she doesn't catch on to my honesty. "And it would help if you'd just leave me alone, okay?" I toss the soiled napkin in the trash and walk past her to sit on the tan leather couch in the corner of the room. Sara follows me with narrow eyes.

"What did you mean when you said you hoped I had fun too last night?" I blurt out and look up at her accusingly. I cross a leg over the other and rest my hands in my lap, waiting for her answer. Sara reaches for the door knob, prepared to walk out and slam the wood behind her.

"Oh, because you were having _so_ much fun sitting alone in the hotel while we all went out. What the fuck did you think I meant? Oh," Sara's face lights up when she comes to her own conclusion about why I stayed at the hotel. "_That's_ why you wouldn't let me use your computer. You were watching _porn_, weren't you?" Sara waves her hand as if to motion me away from her. "I get it. I'll just let you simmer in your own sexual frustration. Why don't you just call LB or something? I bet she'd be more than happy to deal with your shit, because I'm not." Sara begins to close the door as she steps out of the dressing room. I can only sit there with my mouth open to protest, but I don't know what to say.

"Oh, and forget about the keyboard part, if it's such a problem, we just won't play the fucking song." Sara says passive aggressively. She shuts the door in my face, leaving me more embarrassed and horrified than ever.

How could I completely forget about LB? The woman I had chased for so many heart-breaking years. I need to call her, I should call her. But I'm afraid to talk to her now. I hold my face in my hands and blink away the fresh tears. For half an hour, I sit in the dressing room and come to a conclusion.

I'm not sick, I'm just merely curious. I don't have a defect, but I have a desire. It's just a fantasy, that's all. I'm not really going to try to act anything out or try to get in bed with my twin sister. I just think it's hot. No big deal.

Right?

I wipe my eyes dry and breathe in deep before standing and stretching my legs. When I walk back onto the stage, Sara and the boys aren't there. I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Sara, who answers on the second ring.

"Are you okay now?" She asks, not wasting time with greetings. She continues when I don't answer fast enough for her. "We're on the bus. We got some lunch. I got you the sub you like. No cheese."

"Thanks," I say into the receiver and start making my way to the tour bus. There's a silence on the other end until Sara speaks up once more.

"I'm sorry, Tegan. I didn't mean what I said. I mean, if you were- it doesn't matter. I hope you feel better. Everything is just hectic because we're so far into touring. But it'll get better. You'll see LB soon when we go to Vancouver." Sara pauses. "Tegan?"

"Yeah, it's okay. I'm okay. Just miss her, is all." I walk out of the venue and see the bus parked a across the lot.

"I know." Sara assures me and hangs up. I make it to the tour bus and tap on the door. It slides open and I'm greeted with Ted's smiling face, mouth full of turkey and bread.

"Waffup, Fee?" He says, spraying crumbs everywhere.

I laugh and walk up the steps and into the bus. Shaun, Johnny, and Chris are grouped in the kitchen area, sitting in the booth where they're all diving into their lunches. Sara is nowhere to be seen.

Ted hands me my sub and I notice my name in the chicken scratch that is Sara's handwriting on the wrapping paper. I smile and have a seat next to Johnny. Halfway through my sandwich, Sara emerges from her bunk. As she's coming down the hall, she catches my eye, but quickly looks away and goes straight to making herself a cup of coffee. I watch her go about pouring her brew into a mug and mixing in cream and sugar. Ted and the boys crack a few jokes in attempt to make her laugh, but she simply turns around and raises her eyebrows at us. She lifts her mug to acknowledge us. When she catches my eye again, my grin full of bread, she gives me a small smile and walks back to her bunk. I swallow hard and watch her walk away, hips swaying slightly, until Shaun says my name and pulls me out of my trance.

"Tegan, you have a little mayonnaise-" He points to his own cheek and I wipe my face with the back of my hand before taking another bite of my sandwich.

"Fanks."

After lunch, we decide to hang out in the dressing room and play a game of scrabble. We gather round the board and collect our letters. Sara sits cross-legged on the carpeted floor. Ted and Shaun sit in the foldable chairs we borrowed from the storage room and I take the seat on the leather couch I had just been weeping on a few hours ago. Ted wins the coin toss and plays first. One by one, he places his letters on the board.

P-O-U-R

Sara scribbles his points onto a pad of paper and we toss the coin again. This time, Sara wins. She bites her lip as she considers her play. Her face lights up with a smirk and she takes her turn, placing each wooden square down with delicacy.

C

U

N

T

Shaun and Ted erupt in laughter, but all I can do is shake my head and smile. I expected nothing less of Sara.

"Does that even count?" I ask as Sara plucks another four letters out of the little felt bag.

"Of course it counts." She marks her points down and picks up the quarter.

"Tails" Calls Shaun right before the quarter falls to the table and lands face-down. He wins. Shaun nods his head and connects his letters to Sara's.

I-P-P-L-E

"Nipple!" He exclaims. Ted gives him a high five and Sara shrugs.

"Your turn, Tegan."

I look down at the row of letters that I have as Shaun reaches into the bag and collects five more. With the seven letters that I picked out, it could only be coincidence and I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I take my turn and add my letters to Shaun's.

U

S

S

Y

When I look up, Sara is smirking at me, like I knew she would. I lick my lips and dip my fingers into the felt bag.

Ted's turn is next and he connects an 'A' and an 'R' to Shaun's 'E' in NIPPLE.

Sara picks up five little wooden chips after recording my score. First, she places a 'T' after the 'S' in PUSSY. An 'E' right before. Then a 'C'. An 'N' and finally, an 'I'. My fingers twirl a letter 'U' in my right hand as Sara marks her points down. My throat goes a little dry as I stare at the word in front of Sara. To play it cool, I take a few sips of water. Shaun and Ted merely grimace, whether from the word or the fact that Sara had just gained a good amount of points, I wasn't sure. Sara looks up at me and catches my eye once again. For a split second I could swear that she had winked at me. Maybe I imagined it, but I found myself trying to catch Sara looking at me again throughout the rest of the game. But not once after that would she even glance up at me. She won, of course. Shaun and Ted tried their hardest to slip as many dirty words as they could on their turns. That only resulted in giving them a lot less points.

I got up to go to the bathroom while Sara packed away the Scrabble board and the felt bag full of letters. When I open the bathroom door, Sara is waiting outside.

"Oh, hey. It's open now." I hold the door open for her, but she pushes me back in. Sara pushes me back into the bathroom until my back thumps against the wall and she closes the door with her foot.

"Tegan," Sara presses her right hand flat against the valley between my breasts and stares into my eyes. My heart is doing back-flips as Sara steps in closer to me, closing the gap between our bodies. Without taking her eyes off of me, she moves her hand over my right breast, directly on top of my fluttering heart. My ears are on fire and it feels like a swarm of dragonflies have encased my chest. Sara feels my heart thump against the palm of her hand as she stares those warm brown eyes into my soul.

And just like that, she pulls her hand away and slips out of the bathroom door, leaving me breathless and confused and terrified all at once.


	9. Chapter 9

Heart hammering in my chest, I run my fingers through my hair and hold my face in my hands, stepping over to the bathroom sink. Staring back at my reflection in the mirror, eyes heavy and shallow, Sara's face is all I see in my features. I take a slow breath in and it comes out quivering. Glimpses of Sara race through my head. Images so vulgar, I have to plant a palm on the wall beside the mirror to steady myself as I squeeze my thighs tight together. I blink hard and shake my head. Turning on the faucet, I let the cold water run and gather a pool of the liquid in my cupped hands. I splash the water over my face, letting it run down my neck and soak into my shirt. The more I think about what just happened a few minutes ago, the more confused I become. Yet, there's this incredible sense of giddiness in my bones. Sara touched me, felt me and how sensational I felt when she whispered my name. She was so close. What was she thinking, coming in here and catching me off guard? Maybe she knew how I might react. I would have said something to her, but I couldn't think of anything other than that hand pressed against my chest. I can't figure any other reason why she would do something like that. It can only mean that she knows. And she feels the same way, unless I've imagined the entire thing. It's just too good to be true. It can't mean what I think it does. A sad pang swells deep in my gut once I realize that no matter what happens, things are going to end badly in this situation. Even if I choose to ignore any feelings I might have for Sara and vow to never go near Quincest again, I still have this strong need to know what it's like to be with her and I only know of one full-proof way to dispose of it. I turn off the water and pull a few paper towels from the dispenser hung on the wall to dry my face and hands. My heart has settled down, now beating normally instead of taking half steps and cartwheels. The pressure low in my stomach has let up, but the tickling need between my legs continues to faintly linger. I fix my hair and dig my hand into a pocket to find my phone and check the time. I only have two hours.

On my way out of the dressing room, I catch Ted chatting it up with Shaun and Johnny. I quickly slip out of the room before they can ask me where I'm off to. The opening band is sound checking, muffling the sound of my footsteps as I make my way down the hall to the entrance. I look around, trying not to seem like a lost child. I flash my wristband to the pierced girl by the door. She nods and I walk out onto the sidewalk. Fans have already formed a line to get into the venue. They yell my name when they see me and I wave politely. I can't waste any time, though. Throwing a sorry their way, I tell them I'm in a hurry and start jogging toward the tour bus. I turn around the corner to the parking lot and slow down to a walk. Panting, I take a seat on the edge of the sidewalk and pull out my phone. This method is easier than trying to sound coherent face-to-face. I type out a sentence, immediately erasing it and glaring at the screen of my Blackberry. I spend what must have been ten minutes before I give up on getting to the point and start this innocently.

_Hey._

Waiting for a reply, I stare at the tour bus, where I know Sara must be. I hold my phone in both hands. When the backlight goes out, I press a key to illuminate the screen again. Five agonizing minutes after impatiently waiting, my phone rings. The sound scares me out of my daydreaming and I'm met with a sucker punch of anxiety to my gut.

_1 missed call from Sara Quin_

My ears throb with heat and my heart raps against my ribcage.

_Why didn't you answer it? _I ask myself. I rub my face before grabbing my phone from my lap and standing up. _What the hell am I supposed to say to her? Hey, Sara, so I guess what happened in the bathroom means that you like me, too. Wanna get together before the show?_

_Maybe I should just wait until she talks to me._

_But what if she doesn't talk to you? How long can you wait until you can't take it anymore?_

_Well, maybe it would be better for both of us if she never did. _

_Maybe, but it's going to drive you crazy if you don't talk to her._

_But what do I say?_

_You don't really have to say anything. She didn't really say anything to you. _

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting alone at a table nestled in the back of a small café. Sipping green tea and watching people walk in and out; I have a little over an hour left. I know I'm being a coward and wasting time, but I'm afraid. It's not the best idea to confront your twin sister about wanting to have sex with her before you play a show in front of thousands of people. I'm better off hiding away and keeping to myself. Besides, if I do anything, it's going to ruin our relationship no matter what. I still don't want her to act like nothing happened, though. I take the straw between my lips and take another drink, silently kicking myself for not answering Sara's call.

Just then, Sara walks through the doors of the café, taking off her sunglasses on her way to the cashier. I try to make myself as small as possible, almost cowering back into my seat and hiding behind my glass of green tea. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I watch my sister order her cup of coffee.

"Fuck." I whisper when she takes her drink and turns around. I curse in my head as she looks around the setting for an open seat. As if in slow motion, her eyes lock with mine for a fraction of a second before I quickly look away. I can feel her hesitate before making her way over to my table. I keep my eyes averted and focused on a couple sitting across the room. I can't avoid her now. Not when she's stepped up to stand by the chair in front of me, waiting.

"Hey." She says quietly. Slowly, I let my eyes lift up to see her, a look of friendliness on her face. "Is this seat taken?" She asks politely.

"Go ahead." I say, sitting upright in my seat as she pulls the chair out and sits down in front of me. She takes a sip of hot coffee and licks her lips. I stir the ice in my drink with the straw and try not to seem as nervous as I really am.

"Do you come here often?" Sara asks me casually, taking another sip.

"What?"

"Do you come here often? I always come here when I'm in town." Sara carries on.

"This is my first time." I play along, feeling my ears burn knowing that she's watching my every move.

"Being in the city?" She questions, placing her tattooed wrist in her lap.

"Yeah." I say before taking a swig of green tea, stealing a glance at her as I drink it down. Sara nods and smiles.

"That's why I haven't seen you around before."

"Mhm." I give her a small smile, making sure not to make too much eye contact. It's moments like these that I wish that whole twin telepathy myth were true. I'd give anything to know what she's thinking right now.

"Do you want to get out of here?" She asks me just as I feel the ankle of her foot slide along my own underneath the table. I jerk my legs away and cross my ankles, eyes going wide for a brief moment.

"Hello? Hey, snap out of it." Sara says across from me and I flinch, flicking my eyes to look at her.

"What?"

"I said I'm going to get out of here. I'd like to see you again, though."

"Oh-uh, yeah. Yeah, I'd like to see you again, too." I pull the bangs out of my face and notice the light sheen of sweat that's accumulated across my forehead.

"I'll call you." Sara says and stands from her seat. She takes a final sip from her cup of coffee before tossing it in the trash beside us. "I'll be seeing you."

"Bye." I manage and watch her walk out of the café. Through the glass windows, I see her smile as she puts her sunglasses over her eyes and walks around the corner and out of sight. Sitting here with my empty glass of green tea and melted ice, I hold my hands over the table, noting how shaky they are.

My phone rings for the second time today and I rush to see who it is. My heart drops when I find it isn't Sara. I half-heartedly press the answer key and bring the phone to my ear.

"Hey, LB." I say into the receiver with enthusiasm. Lindsey's sweet voice greets me back and I feel guilty for forgetting all about her in the midst of everything that's happened this week.

"So guess what, Tee? I get to see you in a few days." Lindsey's cheery tone puts me in an immediately better mood. Knowing that she'll be with me again fills me with relief.

"I can't wait. I miss you so much." I smile when she tells me she loves me.

"I love you, too." I stand and leave a tip for my drink.

"I've got to go, so tell Sara and everyone that I said hello, okay? I love you." Lindsey rushes as I step through the doors of the café.

"Okay, bye. Love you." I say, walking down the block and turning the corner. I hang up thinking of Sara again. A new wave of apprehension hits me on my way back to the venue. She acted like she'd never even met me before. I know what she's doing and I know what her plan is. Pretending we're not related just to make it feel like it's somehow less wrong. Just another hook-up or a one night stand with someone you met in a café. As tempting as it is, I don't want to be the kind of person who cheats, especially when it's with their sibling. I put so much effort and spent so many months dying inside because I'd fallen so hard for a straight girl who would never love me the way I loved her. After all those years of chasing her, Lindsey finally returned my calls and gave our relationship a chance. I can't throw that all away just to experiment with my twin sister. Not when it could potentially ruin my life. A fling with Sara might not be worth losing everything I love and becoming 'those twin lesbians who sing and occasionally go down on each other backstage after playing a show'. The last thing I want is to be the laughing stock of society. I'm already insecure enough as it is.

Why is it that I'm still curious despite knowing the consequences?

The line of waiting fans has disappeared into the venue when I make it back. I show the pierced girl my wristband again and she waves me over to her. Over the loud music from the opening band, she leans over the counter and shouts in my ear.

"Sara told me to tell you that she found it on your computer!"

I gulp and give the girl a questioning look, who simply shrugs. "That's all she told me to tell you! I don't know!"

"Thanks!" I shout over the music and walk to the dressing room. Of course, I think to myself. Of course she used my laptop anyway. I think of how severely complicated my life has gotten in just a few days as I stop in front of the dressing room, feeling my pulse beat along with the drums as I open the door.


	10. Chapter 10

After a moment of pulling myself together, I step into the dressing room. Shaun greets me, standing in a huddle with the rest of the band. Sara between Ted and Johnny, I join them in the close circle and sling my arms around Shaun and Ted. I take a look at Sara and notice that she's changed her clothes since I last saw her in the café. Instead of the charcoal skinny jeans plastered to her slender legs, she has on a tight pair of navy blue jeans, rolled up at the ankles with her black-and-white dress socks peeping out of her Oxfords. Her striped shirt hides behind a brown leather jacket that shields any sign of femininity underneath.

"Good luck tonight, guys. Let's play a good show." Sara says to all of us and pats Johnny and Ted's shoulders. The boys nod and our huddle breaks up. Ted leads the way backstage with Shaun and Johnny following behind. Sara doesn't look at me as she turns around to follow our band members to the stage. With the pre-show music blaring throughout the venue, I take each step behind Sara with caution, careful not to step on her shoes. My eyes lower to watch the sway of Sara's hips as she guides me on-stage. I imagine myself reaching out to grope her on our way up the steps until we're stopped by our manager. Patsy Cline sings a ballad above us as Chris shouts and Sara adjusts her in-ears.

"Okay, here we go!" That's our queue. Ted and the boys rush to their instruments as Sara and I wave to the crowd of screaming fans. I can't see any of their faces from the spotlights. Until the house lights go on, they're just a sea of people, each pair of their eyes watching every move I make. They move around one another and shout with a thousand different voices. Their hands fist at the air, reaching out to us before them. The audience, for now, is just one big, super fan. Their energy puts me into this mood I don't know how to justify with words alone.

"Thanks for coming out tonight. We're Tegan and Sara." Sara says into her microphone and the crowd screams louder. With my Gibson strapped over my shoulder, I begin playing The Con. Usually when we're performing; my mind goes to other places. Sometimes I think about when I'll get to shower again or the book I'm reading in my free time. Tonight, though, I find myself thinking about showering with Sara. I think about reading Quincest. I think about how Sara could have found the stories saved on my laptop.

"Nobody likes me, maybe if I cry!" Sara and the audience sing their hearts out along with me.

I think about what Sara might be thinking. She knows Lindsey and I are together. She's aware that nothing can ever happen between us.

"Encircle me. I need to be taken down!" We end the song and I slip the Gibson over my head, trading it with Andy for my white Gretsch. Sara doesn't waste time in moving on to the next song. She strums the opening chords to On Directing. Pressing her lips to the microphone, she opens her mouth to sing. I take a few seconds to watch her, the spotlights leaving patterns across her face.

"Eyes focus like a microscope."

The drums come in, the keyboard and bass. There are times when I really envy Sara's songs. I wish I had written a few of them myself. All of these lush parts and lyrics compared to my simplistic rock songs. It makes me appreciate how different we are. We balance each other out; ying and yang.

"I get talkin' like a teen."

"Talkin' like a teen." I echo.

I think about Lindsey and how much I love her. I think about the things I'll get to do with her in just a few days.

"You're dressed up. I lose my grip, I lose my focus."

I think about how much I relate to this song right now. Looking over at Sara, her bangs already tinged with sweat under the heat of the lighting, I imagine what it'd be like to be her microphone, brushing her lips with every verse. Her eyes flick open for a fraction of a second, those glossy orbs glance my way in an instant, catching me off guard. I turn my eyes to a vacant spot in the back of the audience.

"Hold on to me. I know." For the rest of the song, I keep my eyes focused on that spot. We end the song, the crowd cheering over the quiet curse under my breath when I step away from the microphone and turn around.

Sara thanks the audience as I collect myself and turn back around to face them. We have time to chat with them, but I'm in no mood tonight. I thought the rowdy crowd could help me forget about all that's happened this week and let me enjoy myself. I can tell that Sara's caught on to how I'm feeling. She doesn't try to make any comments or jokes. It's not a good time to banter with your twin sister, whom you've only just started to think about sexually, in front of a good thousand or so people. Fans with cameras who look up to you and all that you stand for. Here on stage, every song we play, every look we give, anything we say is the center of attention. I can only imagine how our fans would react if I just stepped over to Sara and planted a big, sloppy kiss to her lips. As I'm wondering whether they would scream or whistle catcalls, Sara is thanking the audience again and we're putting our instruments down. Waving at the ocean of people in front of us on our way backstage, Sara follows behind me, Ted right on her heels. Guided by Shaun and Johnny, we make the short trip to our dressing room. Before I can take a seat next to Ted on the sofa, Sara's voice stops me.

"Tegan, can I talk to you for a second outside?" Sara leans against the frame of the door, her arms crossed as she waits for me to join her in the hallway.

"Sure." I say, not wanting to say no and cause suspicion in the boys, much less making it uncomfortable. As of now, it's only awkward between Sara and me. I walk out of the door, past Sara and into the hallway, without so much as glancing her way. She closes out dressing room door, leaving the boys to lounge around until we come back. With the after show music pulsing through the venue and post-show adrenaline coursing through me, I let myself look up and down Sara's body as she shuts the door. When she turns around to face me, I quickly avert my eyes and cross my arms, mirroring the way she looked as she leaned against the door frame.

"Follow me." Sara says and points down the hall, toward the exit of the venue. We step outside, the brisk air hitting my skin and making me brush the goose bumps out of my arms. Sara stops us after a few steps and looks to her left and right. The alley is vacant, save for a couple of trash cans and a small dumpster filled to the brim. Sara faces me and crosses her arm to hold an elbow.

I shake my head and bring a hand to my temple. "Okay, look Sara. I can't-"

"Tegan," Sara cuts me off, holding up her hand to stop me. "Let me just say something, okay?" She waits.

"Okay." I say, putting most of my weight on my right foot. I get an urge to turn the other way and run.

"This," Sara gestures between us. "You and I…" She opens her mouth before closing it again; rethinking what she wants to say, struggling to find the right words.

"You know what? This is a bad idea. I'm sorry, I-"

"No, wait." I reach out and grab her arm as she's turning to go back inside the venue. "Wait."

Sara looks down at my hand on her arm and then back up to me. I stare back into her eyes and will myself not to lean in and kiss her right here under the glow of the streetlamps.

"Back at the café, you said you would call me."

"No I-"

"Sara," I glower at her and she closes her mouth again, pursing her lips into a tight line. "I'm going to go back inside and I want you to call me when you can find a reason why I should risk hurting you and everyone we know." I say, keeping my eyes locked with her. And then, slowly, in a move lacking any form of self-control, I lean in close and hesitantly press my lips to the side of my sister's mouth. My grip on Sara's arm tightens. She doesn't make a move. Everything in my body says to pull away, to turn back before it's too late. After a good, long five seconds of holding my breath as I kiss her cheek, I finally listen. I don't realize how hard my heart is beating until Sara is halfway to the dressing room and I'm left standing outside of the venue, feeling my insides turn to liquid jelly. Never in my life have I done anything remotely close to kissing my sister. Before this week, the thought alone never even crossed my mind.

And then it hits me. I just kissed my sister.

And I want to do it again.

I touch my lips with my fingertips. Turning in circles, unsure of where to go and what to do, I shake my head. A smile breaks out across my teeth.

I just kissed my sister and it was the greatest feeling.

And I want to do it again. I want to kiss her full on the lips. I want to know what she tastes like on my tongue. I want to feel _all_ of her.

And then I remember; Lindsey. My girlfriend. The woman I'm devoted to. The one I, technically, just cheated on with my sister.

My _sister_. I shake my head again, holding my bottom lip between my fingers.

I wait ten minutes, pacing back and forth down the alley, before going back inside the venue. Johnny is walking to the front exit when I return to the dressing room. Peeking inside, I find Sara halfway through the bathroom door. No one else is in the room. All that is left is Sara's Scrabble board waiting on the coffee table in front of the leather couch. Glancing around the room and out into the hallway, I bring the door closed just a crack and race over to the bathroom door. I catch the handle just before it shuts and swing it open. Sara has her hand over where the doorknob should be, ready to lock it. She looks up at me in surprise. She wasn't expecting me to catch her lips with mine, hiding this secret moment by the door gripped in my palm, my other hand smoothing her cheek with my thumb and slipping under ear and tangling in her hair. What I hadn't expected was for her to kiss me back so fervently. The way her lips felt, so soft and warm and inviting, I couldn't break away. The way she nipped my bottom lip and sucked it in between hers, I couldn't stop think of anything else but her; those lips identical to mine. It happened so fast. And it ended too fast. When Sara and I heard our tour manager call our names, she shoved me away from her as hard as she could, sending me flying back into the snack table. Bags of salted peanuts and bottles of water went flying as I collided with the hard plastic. I landed on my side, clutching my hip and wincing as the bathroom door slammed shut.

"Tegan?" Chris hurries over to me, reaching his hands out to help me get back to my feet.

"I'm fine, I'm okay. Fuck." I press the bruise on my side and gasp at the pain. Chris looks at me, bewildered. "What the hell happened?" He walks me over to the couch and runs to the cooler by the collapsed table to scoop out a bag of ice for my hip.

"We got in a fight and Sara pushed me. It's fine. It's not a big deal." I explain. Chris raises his eyebrows as he hands me the bag of ice.

"Put that on your hip." He walks to the bathroom and taps on the door. "Sara," He waits for an answer. "Sara?"

"I'm trying to use the bathroom, here." Comes her muffled response.

"Well, when you're finished in there, go straight to the bus. We're leaving in five minutes." Chris turns back to me. "Let's go." I stand up and hold the ice bag to my bruised hip. Leaving the snack table in its ruins, I follow Chris back to the tour bus, smiling to myself as I replay the memory of Sara kissing me in my head.

And I want her to do it again.

I went straight to my bunk when I got back on the tour bus. I didn't want to ruin the memory by thinking about the fact that I'll be seeing my girlfriend in a couple of days. Instead of feeling disgusted with myself for kissing my own twin sister and _liking_ it, I waited until the lights went out and everyone was asleep to slip a hand underneath my pajama pants and make the tickling ache between my legs go away. I imagined Sara getting out of her bunk and sneaking into mine, quietly tapping on the curtain for me to let her in. I imagined her crawling into my bunk and curling herself into my side, pushing my hand from between my legs and replacing it with her own.

That night, we drive from Washington to Vancouver in a matter of miles. I fall asleep with Lindsey in the back of my mind and Sara at the forefront.


	11. Chapter 11

Arriving in the city I live in, it would be stupid not to stay at my apartment during the two days we have off before our next show. The rest of the band decided to book a few rooms at the hotel a couple of blocks away. Lindsey is supposed to fly in sometime soon. Sara hasn't spoken up about what her plans are. Actually, she hasn't really spoken to any of us at all today. When I rolled out of my bunk and found her in the kitchen sipping a mug of warm coffee and reading a book, I was too scared to even walk past her to find some breakfast. Andy is fixing more coffee while Shaun reads a book of his own in front of Sara. She doesn't even look back from facing Shaun when he catches sight of me standing in the hallway and says, "Good morning, Tegan." I give him a smile and turn around to go back to my bunk. Sara turns another page in her book.

I pack a bag with a few clothes I want to wash at my apartment and stuff my laptop between a layer of socks and underwear. By the time I'd finished getting my stuff together, we were at the hotel. While our band and crew lug their suitcases off of the tour bus and check into their rooms, I wait in the back of the bus to keep out of their way, texting my girlfriend to pass the time. The plan is that she'll arrive at the airport early tomorrow morning and take a cab straight to my apartment.

With a rumble and a sway, the bus starts moving again. Now that I finally have the place to myself, I decide to get up and head toward the kitchen to find something to eat. As I walked down the hall, my thoughts turned once more to my sister. A part of me feels bad for not inviting her to stay with me, but I know it would be a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't be allowed to have her alone with me, especially since LB is expected to be arriving at my door tomorrow. Even more so because of our little encounter last night. Replaying the events in my head, I absentmindedly finger the bruise on my hip, which has now assumed a nice purple-yellow hue—a temporary reminder of the possible future pain I might face if Sara and I ignore the fact that we can't be together. I push the thoughts from my mind and in their absence am surprised to notice how quiet the bus is—quieter than I'd heard it in a long time. The only sound is the gentle humming of the air conditioner.

I finally feel like I can breathe for the first time this week until I step into the kitchen. Still sitting at the table with her face wedged between a book, Sara wraps her fingers around the mug in front of her and drinks down the last of the lukewarm coffee. My eyes go wide and I stop in my tracks to hold my breath, a chain of four letter words running through my head. Suddenly the air is too thick.

_Why is she still here? _I ask myself.

My heart speeds up and I wipe the bangs out of my eyes before drying my sweaty palms along my jeans. I briefly consider hiding in my bunk for the next two days and not coming out unless Sara is gone. I feel trapped between her and the safety of my bunk. Before I can retreat back to it and hibernate, Sara has closed her book and gotten up to put her coffee mug in the sink. I inch back and accidentally trip over my own feet, catching myself on the side of Shaun's bunk. Sara's head jerks my way from the noise and she jumps, clutching the mug in her hand for dear life.

"Tegan, geez you fucking scared me."

"Sorry." I blush red and feel my ears grow warm. "I thought you were staying at the hotel with everyone else."

Sara shakes her head as she sets her coffee cup on the counter. "Why would I do that?" Sara finally turns and acknowledges me for the first time since last night. Knowing that her eyes are on me makes it hard to focus on what she's saying. She sweeps the tip of her tongue across her lips, making it difficult to think of anything but how it felt when it licked into my mouth and swept across my own tongue.

"I don't know." I say, nervously tugging at a good chunk of hair on the back of my head. The warmth in my chest heats up and I feel self-conscious.

Sara grabs her book from the table. "I can stay at the hotel if you don't want me around, Tegan." She says, visibly uncomfortable.

"No, no. It's fine." I say.

I haven't felt this conflicted since the time I went to Lindsey's house and, after flying all the way to LA to kiss her, I found myself unable to work up the guts to just lean in and go for it. I was so nervous the whole time. I remember mentally kicking myself all the way back to my apartment for not going through with it. It's not like I could just fly down there any time I wanted and see her. I felt like I'd missed my chance.

Now with Sara standing in front of me, no doubt feeling just as torn as I am between doing the right thing or something that could ruin us, I have to decide if I'm going to take a chance and let her stay with me or send her away like I left Lindsey without even kissing her goodbye. It should be easy for me. I know what I _should_ do, but I know what, or I should say, who, I want to do. "You don't have to do that."

Sara taps the cover of her book and slightly nods. She knows that Lindsey is going to be here, but she doesn't know when. She's about to open her mouth to say something when the tour bus stops in front of my apartment building. I start to inch back to my bunk when she stops me. A swarm of butterflies fill my stomach as I look down to see her free hand smooth across my bare arm. I try to ignore the trail of goose bumps she leaves and hope she doesn't notice them, too.

"I'll, uh, call you. Okay?" Sara waits for me to nod once before stepping off of the tour bus. I rush to the table to lean over it and pull a single blind down with my finger. I watch her make her way down the sidewalk, past my apartment building and down the block without glancing back, the book she was reading still held in her hand.

I don't realize that my hands are shaking until I go back to my bunk and try to lift my suitcase. On the way off of the bus, I stop in my tracks. I ask the driver to wait as I run back to the bunks. Stopping at Sara's, I slide the curtain to the side. Her bunk is made—the sheets tucked in and pillow resting in the corner. I close the curtain and go for the compartment underneath. I don't even have to look too hard before I find what I'm looking for. Tucked between a stack of books and a suitcase is Sara's laptop. I tuck it under my arm and shut the compartment with my foot. I step off of the bus and carry my luggage to my apartment. I hear the tour bus rumble away a few minutes later as I step up to my front door.

Inside, everything is exactly how I left it so many months ago. Besides the layers of dust that always build up when I'm gone, it's pretty clean. I drop my suitcase on top of my bed and unzip it and pull out the pile of laundry I'm due to wash. I take my laptop charger and plug it in to Sara's computer, balancing it on my knees as I sit down on the side of my bed. Sara's password is the same for everything. Once I gain access to her documents, I start sifting through the files, which are, in typical Sara fashion, meticulously organized into specific folders. I scroll past unfinished demos and lyrics until I come across a folder labeled '-'. Intrigued, I click on the icon and it opens into a group of folders. They're all labeled with different numbers. I open the first folder, which opens a zipped file. Extracting the file, I'm left with a single Word document labeled '01'. Half of me says that I shouldn't be going through my sister's computer. The other half says that it's only fair.

Opening the file, I bite my lip. I just know it has to be what I think it is. But when it finally loads, I'm a little relieved and disappointed at the same time. It's only Sara's banking information. I close it and open another file, but it's all basically the same thing; credit card information, our bands' staff and their wages, and boring financial details. I close the laptop and shake my head.

I need Sara to hate me so I can force myself to ignore the feelings I have for her. She would be doing us both a favor by not calling me tonight. It would be best if she really did just go stay at the hotel so I could be with my girlfriend and get her off my mind. I crossed a line with her last night. It doesn't matter if she kissed me back, I shouldn't have kissed her in the first place. I shouldn't have kissed her in the first place. Maybe if I had said what we should have said behind the venue, I could be waiting for my girlfriend to call rather than being more anxious for my sister to. Everything is so fucked up now. I want to be with Sara, but I don't. Maybe if we try and it's bad enough, we can get on with our lives. But there will always be that tension between us if it ends up that way. I won't be able to look at Sara the same way without thinking about how we were together. It would make me sick. But if we try and it's amazing, what then?

I stand up and let Sara's laptop fall on the bed. An idea hits me—gutting me in the stomach and making me reach my hands up to my face. I remember the book Sara mentioned on-stage a few nights ago, Hotel New Hampshire. Recalling a certain chapter in the novel, I pound my forehead with the heels of my hands. Pacing across my bedroom, I play the scene in my head of how John and Franny, these two incestuous siblings, literally fucked each other all day in order to get it out of their systems. In the book, they both ended up moving on because of it. Thinking about it, I realize it may not work for Sara and I. It could possibly pull us apart. It could split up the band. What if we end up being disgusted by each other? What if I'm not really attracted to Sara, but more drawn to the idea of being with my sister? I shake my head again. I can't deny the way she makes me feel. Part of me wishes I wasn't attracted to Sara, but I can't pretend she doesn't make my heart flutter. The way my body reacts to her makes it impossible to think that I may not enjoy being with her.

When we were younger, we were always at each other's throats. More often than not, I'd have rather punched Sara in her face than even considered hugging her. These days we rarely get on each other's nerves. Now, we rarely get on each other's nerves. We've learned how to get along. But now I can't get her off my mind. I'm so scared that this is going to ruin our relationship and everything we've worked so hard for.

I sit back down on the bed and hold my face in my hands, feeling frustrated tears well up in my eyes. I sniff and blink them away. I sock a fist into the sheets and stand up before heading back into the living room. I spend an hour dusting and rearranging furniture, pulling my phone out of my back pocket every few minutes. I make some lunch while I distract myself from my phone with the television. The hours tick by slower than ever and by three, I find myself bored with nothing else to do. I wander back into my bedroom, feeling pathetic and lonely as I wait for Sara or Lindsey to call me. I sit down next to my suitcase with my laptop lying inside. As I'm reaching out to pick it up, my back pocket starts to vibrate against my bum. I stand up and yank it out of my pocket, my heart racing against my ribs almost painfully.

_Incoming call from Sara Quin_

The breath catches in my throat and I take a deep breath before answering.

"Hello?"

A couple of moments of silence until Sara's voice responds. "Hey. I, uh, wanted to talk to you about…what happened." I feel my stomach twist into a knot. I don't want her to confront me about last night. Talking about it might make it sound as bad as it is.

"…Okay." I say into the receiver. I have one hand tangled in my hair while the other clutches the phone close to my face. I could hang up and avoid hearing what I know Sara's going to say, but I keep the phone to my ear, waiting for her to continue.

She takes a breath on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry I walked away from you and pushed you into the table. I was just scared. I mean, I'm scared now, too. It's just…it's just really weird." I wince and wipe the bangs out of my face as Sara keeps going. "I don't know how I feel about all this. I don't really think I know anything anymore." I can hear a few people talking in the background. She must be at another café or a bar. "I don't really know what to say. I don't know why I called. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm glad you called. I just don't know what to say to you, either." I bring both hands to cradle the phone against my ear.

"…I really want to see you but I know I shouldn't." Sara says quickly. I feel my pulse start to race faster thinking about who's on the other end of the line and what they've just said. "Can I see you? You don't have to say yes." Sara adds.

"Yes." I say without hesitating. I can't stop pacing across the room, pulling at my hair with shaky hands as I wait for Sara to answer.

"Yeah?" Comes her soft reply.

I think about Lindsey and how much I love her. In my mind, I tell her I'm sorry for anything I might do before standing still in the middle of the room and pressing the phone to my ear. My knees are wobbling beneath me as I try to remain collected. I tell myself that I'm being reckless and stupid, that I should say no and hang up immediately to call my girlfriend.

"Yeah. Come over."


	12. Chapter 12

I've just given myself a perfect opportunity to stop this before it has a chance to get out of control. Sure, I could drink a few beers to cool my nerves, but I'd be sabotaging myself. I'm not even sure I want Sara to come over after all. Either way, she's going to show up at my doorstep in a few minutes and I'm not prepared for what she has planned. I'm pacing my apartment as if I'm looking for something that could help me figure this out, going from my bedroom to the kitchen and back. I anxiously tug at my hair and press the heels of my hands into my skull.

Can I make a move on Sara without feeling disgusted with myself? Maybe if I don't think about how wrong it is. That feels almost impossible right now. I have to if I want to get rid of these feelings for her. Tonight feels a little too soon, though. We could be rushing into it. It was only yesterday that we both realized we had a mutual attraction to each other.

I stop my pacing in front of the fridge and stare it down. I could get drunk and forget who I am and, hopefully, who Sara is. She didn't sound like she'd been drinking over the phone. What if she gets here and sees me sloppy and intoxicated while she's sober as a nun? Would she still try to crawl into bed with me? Half of me hopes she will, tipsy or not. The other half says I should call her back and tell her not to come over.

I open the fridge and blindly reach inside. I twist off the cap of a beer and chug as much of it as I can. It slides down my throat and bubbles in my chest. When the bottle is empty, I clang it down on the counter top and reach for another. The second leads to a third and halfway through the fourth I feel myself starting to get dizzy. I press a thumb to my forehead and lean against the kitchen counter with my hips. I belch and cover my mouth as I hold it in before slowly blowing the air out.

A quiet knocking on the front door makes me flinch. I jerk my head its way and look back at the bottles before me. My heart thumps in my chest and I feel myself getting shaky. She's on the other side of that door waiting for me to let her inside. Lightheaded and giddy despite the circumstances, I push my hips off the counter and make my way to the door. There's another light knock and a swarm of butterflies invade my stomach. My hand hovers over the doorknob for a moment as I consider pretending not to be here. But she knows I've got nowhere to go. I take the deepest breath and open the door.

"Surprise!"

"Lindsey?" I stare at the smiling woman in front of me. With two suitcases lying next to her feet, my girlfriend opens her arms and pulls me into a suffocating bear hug. I tentatively pat her back and she pulls away to kiss my cheek. She stops before going for my mouth and gives me a look.

"Have you been drinking? You smell like cheap beer." Lindsey laughs and kisses me anyway. Still caught off guard by her showing up unannounced, I'm finding it hard to be excited to see her. I'm almost relieved that she's here until I remember why I downed four beers.

"I thought you weren't going to be here until tomorrow." I say, dumbfounded by her presence. Of course she would show up when I'm waiting for my sister to get here to possibly hook up. I briefly wonder what she would have walked in on if she'd arrived a little later after Sara did. Would I have been more ashamed than I am now, when Sara hasn't even gotten here yet?

My first instinct when Lindsey carts her luggage into my apartment is to run for the hills. I feel horrible knowing that Sara is on her way while LB gets herself situated in my room. I stand in the open door and look down the halls. They're empty, save for my neighbors' tabby cat. I lean down and scratch behind its ears before glancing down the hall one last time and going back inside. I lock the door behind me and notice most of the lights are out in my apartment now. The last bit of light is coming from my bedroom.

"What're you doin' LB?" I chuckle and feel another wave of dizziness. In my happy-drunk haze, I realize that she's got music playing, too. I squint at the figure outlined by the glowing light coming from my room. The contour of Lindsey's body beckons me to her and it takes me a few seconds to process what's happening. I take measured steps toward her, still worrying about Sara getting here while Lindsey takes me to bed. When I step up to LB, I realize she has nothing but a towel around her waist. I look at her chest and watch her hands reach around my neck.

"I need to—" I cut her off before she tries to kiss me again, but she shakes her head and holds a finger up.

"It can wait, can't it? You miss me, don't you? I know you have." She plays with the front of my shirt, her cool fingers grazing my stomach and giving me goose bumps. I roll my neck and loosen up my shoulders.

"I do miss you." I smile at her and brush my lips with hers. In the back of my mind, Sara sits and waits for me to get done with my girlfriend. She's going to get here any minute now and I won't be able to answer. She's probably going to think I've changed my mind. I don't want her to feel like I'm rejecting her.

Lindsey pulls me into the room by my belt. I'm still trying to find a way to tell Sara not to come when LB spins me around and tells me to sit on the bed. She rocks her hips to the music in front of me and slowly strips off the soft towel, letting it quietly fall to the floor like a whispered ghost. My eyes trail across the expanse of her skin from her ankles all the way up to her neck. I can't will myself to look into her eyes right now. I don't deserve such a body and mind as hers. Not after the things I've done to betray her. Especially not when I wish the woman standing naked in front of me was my sister instead of my girlfriend.

Lindsey steps up to me and nudges my knees apart to dance candidly in my lap. My arms hover above her hips, afraid to touch what's so innocent with my fouled hands. How could she not taste Sara when we kissed? She feels so blatantly obvious on my lips. Guilt bloats inside of me like too much helium in a balloon, ready to pop from the pressure.

Lindsey's hands catch my own by her side. She brings each of them to her front as she sits with her back to me in my lap. Slowly, my palms press flat into the ample flesh of her inner thighs and she lessens her grip on my hands as I guide myself the rest of the way. I rest my chin on her shoulder and kiss the bit just under her ear, nibbling it and smiling when she shivers from the contact. I look down at my fingers teasing her and note the way her nipples perk up when I lightly nip at her neck.

"Jesus, Tegan, you're giving me goose bumps." Lindsey points out and giggles. I smile as she turns her head to acknowledge me. I kiss her jaw and close my eyes, humming in agreement as I focus my attention on my fingers between her legs. Every time I get close to forgetting about who was supposed to be sitting in my lap right now, I get distracted by that voice in the back of my head. I'm listening for the door rather than paying any mind to the music. I have mixed feelings about Sara actually showing up when Lindsey is here. I should be glad that someone else has made the decision for me. I don't have to worry about getting involved with my sister now.

Lindsey sighs and moans into my ear as she squirms under my lithe fingers. And then I hear it, the light tapping against thick plywood. The sound reverberates in my head just as one of Lindsey's hands finds its way to the back of my neck. Her fingers drag in my hair and grab hold when I stop moving altogether.

"What's wrong?" She asks.

"There's someone at the door." I slide my hands along her thighs as she exhales sharply.

"Hurry up, okay?" She turns in my lap and kisses me deeply, pressing her mouth hard against mine. She stands and pulls me up with her.

"Don't keep me waiting." She pleads and smoothes the hem of my shirt. I just smile at her, afraid to say anything. I leave her in the bedroom as I wander out to the front door in the dark. I take a good few seconds to catch my breath before opening it. I'm afraid I've taken too long to answer and she's left already until my eyes settle on Sara. She has the lowest cut t-shirt I've ever seen on her and a pair of the tightest jeans. She starts when she sees me in the doorway, but I keep my eyes low. My pulse is out of control. Every inch of me seems to throb in sight of her. I know she must feel self conscious, but she looks so good. Her jutting collarbones are prominent against the breadth of her chest. I can't help but check her out. The beers must be helping with that, because I take my time to look her up and down, admiring the way her curves are authenticated by her tight clothes.

She opens her mouth only to close it again. I don't know what to say to her, either. Before I'm brought back to reality by Lindsey's presence, Sara breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry, you look busy. I'll just go."

"No, wait. Just hold—hold on." I glance back at my bedroom. The door is closed and you can hear the music pouring out between the walls. I draw the door closed behind me as I step out into the hallway with Sara. She steps away from me and I lean against the wall, hoping the edginess will subside. From inside my apartment, Lindsey yells for me to come back to bed. I take a quick breath and grimace.

"I didn't know she was coming tonight." I admit. Sara's posture tightens up, ready for defense. An air of awkwardness fills the space between us, so thick I could cut through it with a knife. Sara crosses her arms and puts all of her weight on her left foot. She wipes the bangs out of her face as I look up at her.

"Oh." She bites her lip and twists the hair at the base of her neck between her fingers. I look down at my socked feet. I'm arguing with myself in my head. One part of me wants to pull her in and kiss her. The other wants to hide away and pretend I don't exist for a few days. I glance up at her and then look back down at my feet again. I don't know what the hell to say to her right now. I try to steal a look at her again and when I do, she's staring back at me. The contact scares me and I have to look away again. My face is getting warm and I know she can see how red I'm getting. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her hesitantly take a step closer to me.

"You're making me nervous." I blurt out in a soft voice. She stops in her tracks and holds her arms again. I wring my fingers together and pick at the nail of my thumb. Another wave of butterflies sinks into my stomach and I push the bangs out of my eyes to fight them off. Sara's fingers dig into the sides of her arms as she stands away from me. I steal a glance at her and find that she's biting her lip as she watches me chip away the nails of my fingers. I bring a finger to my mouth and bite away the tip of a hangnail. Sara takes a small step closer to me and keeps her arms held tight around her chest. My ears grow warmer when she stops right in front of me. I pull my hand away from my mouth and close my eyes. I can feel her warm breath hit my face and I notice it smells like coffee. So she hasn't been drinking, I conclude. I can almost taste the yearning on her bated breath. Painfully slow, she leans in and gently catches her soft lips with mine.

My breath hitches the moment our mouths come in contact. Sara begins to move her lips along with mine as if she's carefully planned every move she's making. Her head slightly tilts to the side as she presses harder against me. She inhales sharply through her nose and breaks the kiss. My eyes are still closed and my mouth is still open as I listen to her walk down the hall and around the corner. I open my eyes when I hear the elevator descend and she's gone again.

I rub my face and eyes. The pounding of my heart against my rib cage makes it hard to move. My head is still fuzzy from the beers and Lindsey is waiting for me to get back to her. With a sigh, I slip back inside and head straight for the kitchen, downing another beer before returning to my bedroom. Lindsey is passed out under the covers of my bed. On impulse, I sink to my knees and crawl under the sheets and up Lindsey's legs. I try not to make too much movement, but I don't need to worry about being quiet. The music hasn't stopped playing and I use her position to my advantage. Lindsey is lying on her back with her limbs sprawled. I slink up her body until I make it to her hips. It's not until I double down and ring my tongue around her clit that she finally wakes up. Her hands fly to the back of my head as she yelps. She rips the covers away and I peek up at her from between her legs.

"Sorry I kept you waiting." I smirk and kiss her core. She lets her head fall back into the pillows and breathes a sigh of relief.

"You scared the shit out of me, Tegan. What took you so long? Who was it?"

I let my tongue make up for my absence and Lindsey quickly forgets to wonder who was at the door. But it's all I can think about while I'm with Lindsey. It's the last thing I think of before I drift off to sleep next to her.

In the morning, I wake up and find Lindsey still dreaming beside me. I feel like an absolute wreck and memories from last night come cascading in as I try to get out of bed. The splitting headache and churning in my stomach force me into the bathroom and over the rim of the toilet seat. Anything I've had to eat in the past few days comes hurling out of my mouth and down the pipes. Lindsey hears me coughing and spitting and comes into the bathroom to hold my hair. She rubs circles in my back as I empty my stomach of all its contents. I'm bleary-eyed and sputtering when she helps me out of my clothes and into the shower. I don't stop her when she washes every inch of me. Her arms wrap around my torso in a drowsy hug. Her head rests on my shoulder and I lay my cheek on her forehead. Today I just feel like I need a guide to remind me how to live normally. I know I can't figure it out by myself, but I also don't want to burden Lindsey with my twisted issue.

I reach around her and shut off the water. Pulling back the curtain, I step out of the shower and pluck two towels from the rack. The bathroom is saturated with hot steam. When I open the door, the breeze makes me shiver. Lindsey grabs my arm before I can step out and mops up my wet hair with her towel. She smiles at me and kisses me, quickly realizing her mistake.

"Go brush your teeth." Lindsey pokes me and instead kisses my cheek. She searches my eyes for something when I don't come back with a witty remark. "Baby, what's wrong?" She combs her fingers through my hair and swipes her thumb along my cheek, wiping away the tears ready to fall. My hand is still glued to the doorknob, ready to get out of here and go back to sleep.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" She asks when I look away from her to stare at the floor. She kisses my cheek one more time and wraps herself in her towel. "Are you hungry or anything?"

I nod and try my best to smile at her. She pulls the bathroom door open and motions me out of the way.

"Okay. I'll trade you a bagel for some teeth-cleaning." Lindsey goes to her suitcases and starts rummaging through her clothes for a shirt and some jeans.

"Extra cream cheese," I request as I plunk a bit of paste onto my toothbrush. "And I'll brush twice."

"Deal." Lindsey says, pulling a shirt over her head. She pulls on a pair of pants as I methodically brush my teeth. I spit out the foam and lick my gums when Lindsey comes to lean against the door frame. I've abandoned my towel on the bathroom floor. She watches my breasts as they sway from the momentum of my brushing. I spit in the sink again and rinse my toothbrush, glancing at Lindsey to see her ogling my body. I shake my head and smile at her. She leans in and kisses me on the mouth.

"Mm, much better." She grins and wipes a spot of toothpaste from my chin. "By the way, Sara called your phone at like two in the morning last night. I answered it because you were knocked out, but she wants to know if you've seen her laptop."

"Oh, yeah, I have it." I say calmly. I don't feel bad for looking through her personal files. She did it to me. That's the only reason she knows about what I've been reading, so it's only fair. If she just respected my privacy, maybe I wouldn't be feeling so conflicted about her.

"Okay, well call her back. And ask her if she wants to meet for lunch." Lindsey leaves the bathroom and I hear the front door open and close. I rinse out my mouth with no intention of brushing my teeth a second time or of calling my sister.


	13. Chapter 13

All I really want to do is crawl back into bed and disappear. Maybe even for a few days. I don't even care if the tour gets canceled. I feel like a wreck, as if I'm being tugged in two different directions and it'll be a matter of time before I crack in half.

Sara's soft, pale fingers slip in between mine, identical except for the river of veins parting beneath our skin. On the other hand, Lindsey holds firmly, but comforting. Sara presses lascivious lips to the back of my hand. I look down at her eyes peeking up at me from behind the curtain of her bangs, the desire to be closer to her bubbling deep in my stomach, like a volcano ready to burst. My palms grow sweaty and I try to let go of Lindsey's hand to wipe it off, but she yanks it towards her, pulling me away from Sara, who latches her other hand onto my elbow and sinks her teeth into my knuckles. There's no pain, though, and I'm surprised because I glance down at her peering up at me still, her mouth biting deeper into my bones, ready to rip my fingers right off.

Suddenly, I feel LB bending the ring finger of my left hand all the way back as far as she can. I stare wide eyed at her, my mouth open in a growl as she brings the knuckles all the way to the back of my hand. The bone stretches the skin on my palm, sticking out awkwardly. I hear a sickening "Pop!" as my middle finger is successfully broken and Lindsey lets go of it and it bounces back weakly, dangling from my hand like a loose tooth, the skin swelling around the torn tissue.

"Tegan Hey, wake up, it's okay. Wake up." A tentative hand gently nudges my shoulder as I'm lying on my side. My eyes slowly open and I blink a few times and look around the room, searching for Lindsey and expecting her to be close by. But there's nobody sitting beside me on the bed or leaning over to wake me up. I realize that I'm holding my wrist with my other hand and I'm curled up in a fetal position, the sheets kicked to the very end of the bed. I stretch out and feel the cool sheets along my skin as I spread my limbs and slowly try to get up before realizing I haven't got any clothes on.

I turn my head to check the time reading 12:08 PM and bury my face into a pillow. I'd only been asleep for an hour. Lindsey should be back already, so I lift myself up and out of bed and find some clothes. As I'm pulling on a pair of underwear, I remember the dream I just had and take a look at my hands. They're perfectly fine, no teeth marks or broken fingers. I take another look around the room, confused. I could have sworn that Lindsey was in here trying to wake me up. The only reason I opened my eyes is because I felt someone touch my shoulder and whisper my name.

I shake my head and finish getting dressed, still half asleep. I wander into the bathroom and deal with the mess or my hair and decide to pull it back into a pony tail. Then I go down the hall and head straight for the kitchen, reaching blindly into the fridge for a Corona until I hear someone clear their throat behind me and I jump, abandoning my beer to turn around and find the source of the sound.

"Hey."

I turn immediately back around and try to keep my insides from imploding. My heart claps against my ribs and my knees decide that they'd like to be made of jelly instead of bones. I thump my head against the refrigerator and close my eyes before I take the beer, twist it open with a hiss, and turn around again.

"Sara, what are you doing here?" I ask, trying to sound as casual as I can without letting my voice shake. She's sitting cross-legged on the love seat in the living room, the television on CNN but the volume is low. Too low almost, because I can barely hear it, and I wonder if she was even watching it. She's wearing the same thing from last night, but her hair is a little disheveled, I assume from sleeping on it or from the wind outside. I close the fridge door but don't advance towards the living room. I'm afraid that Lindsey is hiding around here somewhere, possibly behind a couch, waiting to spring up if I get too close to Sara. "How'd you get in?" I wonder out loud and take a sip of beer.

"Lindsey invited me."

"Oh." Is all I say. I expect Sara to explain further, but she just turns her attention back to the TV, so I shuffle over to the couch opposite of her and sit down on the arm.

"So," I start, but fall short when I realize I have no idea what to say. "Um…"

Sara flicks her eyes to me for a second and then goes back to pretending to watch the screen. Her foot is aimlessly moving about and she's toying with her hands in her lap. Nervous habits, I notice. She clears her throat.

"What did you dream about?"

"What?" I look back at Sara, who has turned her attention to me, her foot has stopped moving but she's begun to pop her knuckles, one by one.

"You were having a bad dream, weren't you?" Pop.

"I guess." I take another sip of beer and wonder when Lindsey is going to get back.

Finally, Sara looks at me. "You were kind of whimpering and stuff, you know?"

"No, I didn't know."

Pop.

Sara looks back at the TV and continues to crack her fingers. When I take another drink, I keep my eyes on her, allowing myself the opportunity to look at the skin peeking out of her shirt and the way her jaw tightens as she clenches her teeth.

"So, where'd LB run off to?" I ask and she turns her attention back to me, her mouth twitching a little before she speaks.

"She got a call, some photo emergency. She said she'd be back in an hour."

"How long has she been gone?"

"Just a few minutes, actually."

"Oh." I say and finish off the rest of my beer. It feels like a trap, almost. Sara and I are going to be alone in my apartment for the next hour. The erratic thumping of my heart pulses in my burning ears. It's not like I should be worried or anything.

Sara sits across from me and looks back at the TV, the tendons in her neck straining a little from her obvious anxiousness. She fingers for the remote beside her and turns up the volume. After a few minutes, while I'm trying not to stare at her, she gets up from the couch and leaves the channel changer on the clear glass coffee table, mumbling that she's going to the bathroom. I stand with the empty bottle of beer in my hand, and go into the kitchen, placing it on the counter top as softly as I can. I lean against the counter with my hands and stare at the sink, turning the water on for no real reason, just to watch it waste down the pipes.

I stare at the water swirling down the drain, hypnotized, and I zone out until I'm not even thinking anymore and I'm looking past the water at nothing at all. The bathroom door opens and closes, jerking me out of my trance. I shut off the water and turn around to lean with my backside against the counter. Sara comes into the kitchen and stops when she sees me, expecting me to be where I was when she left, watching the news and waiting for her.

"Hey," I say and move to the fridge, but my voice cracks and I clear my throat, my face growing warmer as I open the side door and peer inside. "Um, do you want anything?" I glance back at her for a response. Her arms are folded across her chest, holding them as close as she can, as if she's afraid they have minds of their own and will flail is she lets them go. Her lips are pursed, eyebrow knitted in concentration, the same way they do when she's looking over label contracts or approving an art design for our band merch. Her eyes, I notice, are lowered at my midsection and she flicks them quickly up to meet mine when I turn my head to look at her.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just water." I turn back around and pick a bottle of water from the fridge and hand it to her. She steps forward and reaches out to take it, our fingers touching as she wraps hers around the plastic, covering mine until I pull my hand away, a little slower than necessary. The butterflies flutter in my stomach, making it hard for me to swallow or let alone breathe normally.

"Thanks." She says and twists the cap open. I turn around and close the refrigerator door, giving myself a second or two so I can get rid of the giddy smile ready to break out across my face. Sara doesn't move and I'm suddenly trying to gain the ability of speech back. I don't know if I should bring up last night or apologize again, but I also don't really want to talk about it. It feels too wrong. I mean, of course I love Lindsey and I feel like I always will, but then there's Sara, who I feel like I can never not love. She's literally a part of me. We're like a magnet split in two. Except our ends are both polar. There's an unspoken boundary between us that we can never cross, because if we do, then maybe we'll become the single person we'd been split up from since the beginning. This force between us is something we can't see, but we can feel it pushing us away from getting too close. Maybe the attraction isn't so bad, if only we had opposite ends. I'm more afraid of the pull than I am of the magnet.

"I think it's too soon." Sara mutters behind me. I turn around to face her, pretending I didn't hear what she said.

"What?"

"I think it's too soon. I think we both need some time to think about this." She holds the bottle of water in one hand, turning the cap between her fingers, staring at it. There are a few feet between us and I wish I had enough courage and carelessness to fill them. I wish I didn't care about Lindsey or what everyone else would say. I really do. It would be so much easier, but instead I refrain and settle with imagining myself as the bottle of water being pressed tightly against my sister's lips as she takes another sip and clears her throat.

"I'm sorry." Is all I manage. Sara holds the bottle in front of her mouth, as if she's about to take another drink, and watches me for what feels like forever, until I shake my head and make my way around her to the living room. I sit down on the love seat, where she was sitting when I first came out here, hoping she would come in and sit next to me or something. I stare at the TV, not paying attention to it but instead imagining Sara slipping into the room and putting her drink down on the coffee table before sinking a knee into the gap between my thigh and the arm of the couch, settling her other knee on the other side and sitting in my lap, pressing herself into me and straddling me with her hands on my shoulders, arching her neck down with my head tilted back to catch her soft lips with my own.

Instead, she walks slowly into the living room and heads straight for the front door. I try to ignore her, but I turn to see what she's doing when I hear the lock click out of place.

"Where are you going?" I ask, sounding a little too needy, even for me. "I mean, you don't have to go…"

Sara keeps her eyes on the door knob held in her hand. After a few seconds of silence, she opens the door and walks out, closing it behind her. I sit for a minute, staring at the door, a million thoughts racing through my head, and then I rush to the door, almost falling over the coffee table, and rip it open. Sara's eyes are wide, her hand outstretched from being pulled in by the door and having to let go of the knob. She looks up at me, her mouth slightly open, as if she's going to say something, and takes a small step forward to grab the hem of my shirt and pulls me toward her. She looks me in the eye and licks her bottom lip slowly, still pulling me closer to her body until the toes of my feet touch her shoes. My pulse is almost painfully loud in my ears and I wonder if she can hear it, too. My legs shake underneath me and my jaw is held open tightly as Sara leans in close to my mouth, achingly slow. I close my eyes, feeling her warm breath on my lips, almost close enough to actually taste her. First I feel her bottom lip barely brush against mine and then she's kissing me softly, as if she's afraid I might bite her if she moves too fast. I keep my hand on the door and a fist at my side, careful not to touch her.

Sara's lips remain closed as she presses her mouth harder against mine and then pulls away before catching my lips with hers again, moving at a pace that my heart beat can't even fathom right now. It's a thoughtful kiss and I think about everything I want to say to her but don't know how and wish the whole telepathy thing were real. Then maybe she would be able to understand why I had to pull away. I open my eyes, feeling her grip on my shirt let up as I take a small step back, and keep them focused on not looking at her face. She stands there for a moment, torn between coming back inside and leaving. She looks around the empty hall and back to me, conflicted, I know, in every way.

"I'm sorry." I say, barely loud enough for her to hear, and she captures her arm in her other hand at her side, watching me as I stare at the floor.

"Tegan," She pleads as I hold the door open, blocking the entrance to my apartment as if I'm not going to let her back in. "_I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have done that." I let myself look at her now, flicking my eyes up to meet hers, which makes me choke on my words. "I should go." She adds, stepping a little bit further away from me. I panic then, uncertain of whether or not I really want her to leave, and reach toward her.

"No," I pull my hand back, aware of how desperate I'm beginning to sound. I step away and open the door further, signaling her to come back inside, but she stays still, unsure of herself.

"Tegan, I don't know." She says slowly, shaking her head. "I don't know." I watch her, biting my lip. I'm torn between sending Sara away again and pulling her inside with me.

"I think—I think we should talk about…this." I say, gesturing between us. "Yeah?" I ask. Sara digs her nails into her elbow and gives a small nod. I step back and invite her inside again. She walks past me and I close the door, locking it just in case we decide to be selfish. Turning around, I find Sara sitting down on the love seat again, so I sit in the couch across from her and the coffee table. The TV is still on, but it's not too loud so I keep it on.

"I don't know if I want to talk about it." Sara blurts about before I can speak.

"Okay."

"I mean, I do, kind of, I just don't know what to say."

I nod. "Me, too." Sara nods back and her eyes wander away from me for a second before shooting back.

"I just think we need to think about this more, you know?" I can see her ears growing red. I hadn't noticed how nervous she is. She scratches her head and crosses her leg over a knee.

"It's just Lindsey and…everything." I say, almost regretting it as soon as I said it. "I'm not saying that I don't want to, I just—I don't know." I add and bite my lip again. Sara nods her head in understanding, holding her arms once more.

"Every time," Sara gives a small laugh and shakes her head. "Every time I kiss you, I expect you to hit me or something. I do." She says when I look at her and shake my own head. "I deserve it, though. I love Lindsey too and it makes me feel like complete shit, but I—sometimes I can't—"

"Sara," She wipes her eyes with one hand and stands up.

"I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Sara, just wait—"

But she's already at the door, cut short by the lock until she turns it and walks out. I get up and run to the door before it closes and swing it back open, but Sara is walking as fast as she can down the hall.

"Sara!" I call, but she keeps going without looking back. "Sara!" I shout again as she's turning the corner. I could run after her, but I can't find a reason to. My feet feel like they're cemented into the ground. So I just stand there for a few minutes, unable to move, until one of my neighbors opens their door and comes out into the hallway. I go back inside and close the door before lying down on the couch and flipping through the channels of the TV until I fall asleep.

I wake up when the front door opens and Lindsey walks in with a paper bag in her hand.

"Where's Sara?" She asks, sitting down on the coffee table in front of me and taking out the bagel wrapped in half a dozen napkins, handing it to me as I sit up.

"She wasn't feeling well, so she left." I take a small bite out of my late breakfast as Lindsey watches me.

"Oh, well sorry I was gone for so long. I called her before I left after you fell asleep." She laughs. "Are you feeling better?" I shrug first, and then shake my head, my mouth full of crème cheese.

"You have tomorrow off too, right?"

I shrug again. I feel horrible when Lindsey is being so good to me and I've been cheating on her with my own sister. I put the bagel down on the coffee table and swallow the last bit.

"I'm sorry, LB. I really am."

"Why? What's wrong?" She asks, concerned. I don't deserve her right now. She should hate me, never want to talk to me or see me again. I hold my face in my hands and shake my head, unable to do anything but cry while Lindsey wraps her arms around me and strokes my hair, telling me that it's okay to tell her anything, that she loves me and that I don't have to keep anything from her. But I do, I have to.


End file.
